30 Kisses: Ran and Shin'ichi
by RanMouri82
Summary: Thirty tales of love, deduction, and truth between a girl and her detective geek. *What to Expect When You're Gardening: "If I can't even take care of a plant, how can I know our baby will be okay?"*
1. Sweet Slumber

**Title:** Sweet Slumber  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #22 – cradle  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 9/7/2006)

_Sweet Slumber_

"His swift left foot kicked the soccer ball deftly," recited Miyamoto Shou, English teacher of Teitan class 2-B, in sharp monotone. Holding an English textbook aloft with one hand and grasping a stub of white chalk with the other, he wrote the sentence on the blackboard in soft, rhythmic scratches. Afternoon sunlight bathed the classroom, tracing golden stripes on the blackboard, and many students fought growing fatigue by yawning, blinking, pinching themselves, or even biting their lips—the last one being the tactic of Mouri Ran, who missed Jodie Saintemillion more than ever.

Glancing at the young man who sat between her and the window, though, Ran sighed; draped in that warm blanket of light, Kudou Shin'ichi cradled his head in the crook of his crossed arms and slept.

_He's been like that since class started_, Ran thought, scrawling the sentence with pink gel pen while resisting the urge to decorate her notebook's margins with flowers. Shooting a glare at the ironically sleeping detective as she could _feel_ the drool running onto his sleeve, she huffed to herself, "He acts like he hasn't missed any school, let alone a full year."

"Do you have something to say, Miss Mouri?" Mr. Miyamoto asked, turning so the combined glare of sunlight and white florescent obscured his enormous glasses.

"N-no," Ran stammered, flinching as Shin'ichi snuggled his head further into his elbow. After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Miyamoto nodded and returned to the crooked sentence diagram he had begun drawing on the board, and it dawned on Ran that while her teacher might have excellent hearing, with or without glasses his vision was horrible. Ran turned her attention to the board, copying the sentence diagram and wondering why people teased _her_ for sleeping like the dead.

But soon, soft breathing hummed beside her and a blush warmed her cheeks, that age old twist in her stomach prodding her to take another look to her left. Shin'ichi had twisted his head in her direction, specks of dust in the stuffy classroom dancing with every slow exhale from his nostrils and parted lips. His hair all but obscured his drawn eyelids, protecting them in whatever sweet dreamland Shin'ichi dwelled.

Resting her chin in her palm as Shin'ichi's back rose and fell with each gentle breath, Ran could not help but smile.

_Dong, ding, dong._

Ran jolted upright in her chair, startled at the chimes that signaled the day's end; shaking her head, Ran jotted down the night's homework assignment, snatched her satchel and stuffed into it her notebook and supplies. There was still dinner to make for three; her mother had decided, albeit in as businesslike a manner as possible, that she would give living at the Agency a trial run. _Maybe soon I can cook for four_, Ran thought with a grin, scooting her chair back so she could stand, _if Dad wouldn't mind Shin'ichi coming over and—_

"Oh, what's this? Detective Sleeping Beauty _still_ under his spell?" a female voice taunted. Over her shoulder, Ran saw Sonoko slip behind her desk and hover over Shin'ichi like a hen; smirking, she kicked the leg of Shin'ichi's chair, the impact wobbling Shin'ichi a bit but failing to rouse him. "Hmph! If it's beauty sleep he's taking, he should just give up now."

"Come on, Sonoko," Ran replied, planting her hands on her hips while narrowing her eyes at her friend, "he's still exhausted after everything." Of course, the niggling voice in the back of her mind told her_ that_ comment would evoke less, not more, sympathy from the Suzuki heiress who was still getting over such shocks as the not-so-little Haibara Ai unlocking a door with illegal firearms.

But Sonoko quirked a mischievous smile and leaned closer to Ran. "If that's true, you could always perk him up. Why don't you awaken your sleeping prince with a kiss?"

"A-a-as if I would do such a thing!" Ran cried, her face flushing red as she squeezed her satchel's handle and ground it between her fists. The students on cleaning duty ceased milling around to cast mildly interested glances their way.

"Okay, okay, it was only a suggestion to help your husband," Sonoko replied, pinching Ran's flaming cheek while she squirmed. Finally releasing it, she swung her own satchel over her shoulder and strolled out the door, chuckling as she waved goodbye. "See you later!"

Ran heaved a sigh, picturing how Sonoko would fuss over her Friday night, attacking her with tweezers, eyelash curlers, and lip liner. Shin'ichi was taking her on their first real date that night, back to the Beika rooftop restaurant . . . a fact that tingled her spine with nameless anxiety.

Blinking, Ran realized the crew had already moved past the chalkboard and erasers to the desktops; she had to wake Shin'ichi somehow. Reaching a hand to shake his shoulder, she glanced from the inert Shin'ichi to the other students and back again; he grunted, but gave no other signs of life. Ran frowned. _If he was up late again with another case, I'll—_"Hey, we've got to get going!"

"Ran-neechan . . . ."

Ran jerked back, knocking her desk off-balance with a squeak and rattle as she contorted in shock. _W-what?_

"I'm waking up . . . Ran-neechan," the teenage detective mumbled, his voice thick with drowsiness. After all the futile shaking, his head had completely rolled off his arms onto the desk, blanketing his face and slumped arms with a cascade of jet black hair. What little of his eyelids Ran could see fluttered for a moment, then gave up.

Shaking her head, Ran laughed at the slumbering young man that, until recently, had worn the visage of a chubby cheeked boy. She glanced toward the now oblivious cleaning crew one more time; then, tenderly, she reached a delicate hand to his brow and ran her fingertips along a face no longer trapped behind false glasses. Brushing away the errant strands, she murmured, "Yes, I know."

* * *

And so begins another 30 Kisses! This will hopefully not take me two and half years to complete (hee!), but it will be a labor of love from start to finish. This is dedicated in advance to **Candyland**, who blazed the trail with her "30 Kisses: Shin'ichi and Ran". Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	2. To Tell the Truth

**Title:** To Tell the Truth  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #14 – radio-cassette player  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 10/5/2006)

_To Tell the Truth_

Toyama Kazuha drew her legs together and giggled, snuggling her stocking feet into the comforter and leaning closer to Ran's hairbrush. The day had been a long one with the requisite murder case, given the company both of them kept; though it was late and the Osakan girl felt guilty for inconveniencing her host, Ran had decided that they should let themselves be a little girlish and brush each other's hair.

"Well, since we've gone this far to make it like a slumber party," Kazuha chirped, sighing with contentment as the brush smoothed her formerly upswept hair onto her shoulders, "all that's left is girl talk, right?"

"Ah, so you're saying you want to talk about Heiji?" Ran giggled, just a hint of mischief creeping into her laughter as she nudged Kazuha before gathering her hair in a low ponytail.

"D-don't be silly! Why would I want to talk about that idiot?" Kazuha screeched, springing forward so Ran could not see her blushing face. She immediately jerked back when Ran caught the brush in a tangle of her hair. Wincing with pain, she added, "Besides, you haven't said anything about Shin'ichi lately."

Ran relaxed her hands a little, murmuring an apology for the injury, but kept brushing; she pushed up the sleeves of her pink, cotton pajamas insofar as they interfered with her detangling—which suddenly had become more important than talking. She soon paused, though, and said, "Well, there's not that much to say."

"What do you mean by that?" Kazuha asked, blinking. She almost dared to turn, but decided she did not want Ran's brush to catch another tangle in the process. "He still calls you, right?"

In the soft, golden glow of her bedside lamp, Ran's smile faltered. "Of course he does. We talk a lot, so . . . it's fine, really."

A dark shadow cast itself before Kazuha's eyes; she lifted a hand and caught Ran's brush, stopping it mid-stroke. Turning around so their pairs of knees formed a little circle, Kazuha took Ran's hands in hers, cocked her head to the side, and gave her a kind smile. "You miss him, right?"

"Um, a little," Ran said, looking away as a delicate shade of pink kissed her cheeks. "He's just a stupid detective geek, that's all. He's been gone so long, and," she continued, poking her toe at a loose corner of the blanket, "he probably has . . . no idea."

"Ran . . ." Kazuha murmured. Then, beaming, she shot upright so fast she shook the bedframe and shouted, "That's it! The next time Shin'ichi calls, why don't you tell him how you feel? He's _got_ to feel the same way, so maybe he'll—"

"W-what? That's crazy!" Ran gasped, recoiling and pulling her hands free. Flattening herself against the wall, she took a pillow, slid it in front of her and hugged it, her shy blush returning. "I couldn't possibly tell Shin'ichi that I—that I miss him or anything. Not over the phone. It's so . . . impersonal, like a cassette recording. I want to be able to tell him face to face."

Kazuha's jaw dropped. "So you _do_ plan on telling him someday?"

"M-maybe. I've thought about it." Sinking into the pillow, Ran's cheeks caught fire; her eyes peeked over the pillowcase, but she kept them turned away. "You see, when he finally comes back and we can spend time together like we used to, I'll be so . . . I don't know if I could keep everything to myself anymore. Really, Kazuha," she said, dropping her voice to a whisper and tucking her chin beneath the puffed cushion, "I'm hopeless."

Fighting the urge to burst, Kazuha bit her lip and grinned. "Then, what would you say?"

Blinking her eyes wide, Ran stared at Kazuha for awhile, opening her mouth and then closing it again. But Kazuha's gentle smile was infectious. Ran sat up, planted her hands at her sides, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. As Kazuha watched, Ran gazed into the distance, calmness overtaking her features as she laid down her pillow and stared at the bedroom door.

"I—I'd say . . . Shin'ichi, there are many things I've been wanting to talk about," Ran began, her wavering voice slowly gaining courage as she planted both feet squarely on the floor. "I've waited because it's something . . . special, and you should hear it in person. We've been friends for so long, and _you've_ been such a good friend, and—oh, Kazuha, I can't—"

"No, Ran!" Kazuha squealed, tugging Ran's outstretched arm. "Keep going! Keep going!"

Ran nodded and set her jaw like a soldier—a beet red soldier—completing an important mission. "Shin'ichi, even though I keep saying you're a mystery geek, the truth is that you're also cool and brave, and you have a good heart. You've always been there for me, and you're . . . special to me."

Kazuha gripped the covers and stared, transfixed and trembling, missing the soft knock at the door.

"Shin'ichi, I . . . I love—"

"Ran-neechan!" Conan called, swinging the door open at that instant, "Uncle wanted me to ask if you needed—"

"_Conan!_" Ran yelped, leaping to her feet and nearly whacking Kazuha in the face. Thrusting a finger at the boy who gazed up at her with tired eyes, she stammered, "You s-should knock before entering!"

"I did," Conan replied with a groan, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. Adjusting the large spectacles and yawning, he muttered, "Are you okay?"

It took a moment before Ran registered his response. Then, she glanced from Kazuha to Conan and scratched behind her head. "Yes, of course we're fine," Ran said, trailing off in a nervous giggle. "Um, you can go on to bed now."

"Okay," Conan said, flashing an obedient smile. As he ambled from the room and grasped above his head at the doorknob, however, Kazuha could have sworn she saw the boy linger a moment, peering through the darkened crack before he closed the door.

But before Kazuha could mention it, Ran dove beneath the covers and said, her voice dripping with saccharin sweetness, "We should probably get to sleep, too. You're traveling back to Osaka tomorrow, right? You'll need your rest."

"Mmm hmm!" Kazuha agreed, shaking the weird feeling from her head and flopping onto her futon on the floor below. In a twinkling, Ran switched off the lamp, and the room was plunged into darkness. Burrowing beneath her blanket, however, a question gnawed at Kazuha's stomach; she tossed and turned, trying to accomplish the impossible task of finding a comfortable sleeping position. Finally, she could stand it no longer. "Ran?"

Shifting beneath her own blankets, Ran said, "Yes?"

Kazuha opened one eye. "What would you do then?"

"W-wha . . . what do you mean?"

"About Shin'ichi: if he felt the same way, would you . . . ."

A small whine, like a creak, sounded in the floorboards, but Kazuha ignored it and finished the question anyway. "Would you kiss him? Like, _really_ kiss him?"

"K-Kazuha!" Ran cried, bolting upright. Faint moonlight caught her silhouette as she collapsed back on the bed and grumbled, "I would expect that kind of question from Sonoko, not you." A moment passed, and the only audible sound was their breathing. "But . . . ."

"Yes?" Kazuha chirped, a grin pricking the corners of her mouth.

"But . . . only if he kissed me first, which he wouldn't—good night!" And Ran threw the sheets, comforter, and pillows over her head, burying herself beneath them all.

Curling up by the door and giggling with satisfaction, Kazuha spied the quick movement of feet—but brushed it off as her imagination. If she had seen the owner of those feet, however, she would have been presented with a much greater puzzle than the tangled truths of her dear friend's romance. She would have blinked, perplexed, at the petrified figure of one Edogawa Conan, his back pressed against the wall.

"Really?" Conan mumbled to himself, his eyes beaded in shock. His glasses slid down his nose, the entire bridge of which now flushed bright red. "T-that _is_ good . . . to know."


	3. My Angel

**Title:** My Angel  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #15 – perfect blue  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 11/6/2006)

_My Angel_

"_Drown my will to fly/Here in the darkness I know myself/Can't break free until I let it go_"—_Lithium_, Evanescence

Kudou Shin'ichi's takeout dinner swung by its bag handle in one hand, while another, much larger bag was tightly grasped in the other. He stood tall above many of the shoulders that brushed past him as he shuffled down the familiar sidewalk to his apartment, resisting the urge to scratch the stubble on his chin. Despite how the lunchtime business crowd recoiled at the smell from his unwashed hair and jeans, he only wanted to get home as quickly as possible to avoid risking damage to his takoyaki or some old enemies-turned-friends.

Glancing into the larger bag that tinkled with glass bottles, Shin'ichi felt somewhat grateful he had come of age; until he turned twenty, he had fruitlessly searched for legal methods of relief for his ailment: a tight ache in his chest and a head full of memories that caused relentless insomnia. Now he had gin, vodka, tequila, and whatever else he could buy with the money his parents insisted he take until he "got back on his feet." His only other asset was the endless supply of juice his mother stocked his fridge with whenever he failed to buy groceries. Doubtless she meant it for breakfast, but Shin'ichi rarely ate that anymore.

Suddenly, Shin'ichi froze. Had he heard a—_snap?_

Shin'ichi wheeled backward, turning his red eyes to the midday sun and searching for the source, irritating not a few pedestrians as they bumped into his broad, though slumped shoulders. A speck of black dotted the sun which grew, within the space of a millisecond, into a long bar, then a steel plank. A chill shot up Shin'ichi's spine when he felt not fear, but relief as the piece of construction gone awry accelerated toward his skull.

Just before blackness enveloped him, however, a burst of wind slammed into Shin'ichi's chest and sent him flying backward into the crowd. Blinking, he watched as the rusted steel bar slammed into the concete mere centimeters from his feet, cracking the sidewalk below. A moment of silence fell over the stunned people, which immediately gave way to shrieks of fear and desperation.

Shin'ichi fumbled for his bags in the middle of the chaos, noting that while his food was intact, most of his liquor bottles shattered in the fall, spilling out of the bag and pooling onto the sidewalk like blood. Saying nothing to kindly passers-by who asked him if he was alright, Shin'ichi stared ahead, expressionless.

_. . . It happened again._

"You have two messages," the answering machine chirped in its metallic, yet perky voice. The apartment's musty smell greeted Shin'ichi, who unloaded his remaining purchases on the low, wooden table his mother had given him, knowing by gut instinct to expect her message first. His instinct did not disappoint.

"Hi, Shin-chan!" Kudou Yukiko giggled, the vague sound of a car engine breaking through the cell phone static. Shin'ichi pried open the container and popped a takoyaki into his mouth. It was cold. "Your father and I will be returning from America in the morning, so we'll have dinner at home soon, okay? You're getting too thin."

Since the tragedy of that night, Shin'ichi's parents had both decided to move back into the Kudou estate and decrease their trips abroad, despite their son's constant complaints. Shin'ichi groaned. "I've _always_ been this thin."

"If there's anything you need, let me know," Yukiko said, a little more softly. "Maybe even a souvenir from New York?" Faint police sirens grew in the background, cut off by Yukiko's gasp. "Oh, that's right! Cell phones are illegal when driving!"

"No, you must be speeding," Shin'ichi chuckled through drooping eyelids. Munching on more cold takoyaki, he opened the two remaining bottles—ironically enough, of vodka and gin—and added, "but they'll add more to your fine if you don't hang up." To Shin'ichi's amusement, however, all sounds muffled for a few seconds before the message ended, probably because his mother shoved the phone in her coat pocket. _Beep!_ _11:34 a.m_.

"Heh, wonder who the other message could be from," Shin'ichi mused aloud, searching the cabinets in his cramped kitchen for a tumbler. "Hate to think Inspector Megure would waste his time calling—"

"Kudou-kun."

Shin'ichi started at the familiar icy monotone. Turning to face the answering machine with its steady red light, he sighed. "Miyano."

"Though I would say it's been awhile, it really hasn't," he heard the scientist lightly chuckle, her breath obscuring it with static. "But since you insist on refusing all dinner invitations from the professor, I must insist on you accepting mine. You're getting too thin and I can't let you die."

"Why's everyone saying that?" he grumbled. Lately, Miyano Shiho had been contacting him more and more often, which was saying something for the woman who, grown or shrunk, had never been particularly social. At this rate, her calls were becoming biweekly, and for some inexplicable reason the attention unnerved him. _Why can't I just live in peace?_

Almost as if sensing this, Shiho lapsed into a moment of silence, then added, "Though you probably won't take my advice, please blame me. My invention and my presence got you—and her—into all that trouble. So, you see, the blood is on my hands, not yours."

Clenching a fist, Shin'ichi dashed into the living room, ready to delete the message when she interrupted by saying, "And Kudou-kun, don't think you can get out of dinner. Goodbye." _Beep! 1:27 p.m._

The resulting silence smarted Shin'ichi's ears. Ever since that night, the night Shin'ichi thought he got what he wanted, silence hated him—and the feeling was mutual.

_The blood is on my hands . . . ._

Shin'ichi shook his head, scratching his underarms while he ambled back into the kitchen to snatch his forgotten tumbler and run it under the faucet. "Why does Miyano have to say idiotic things like that?"

_The sky had deepened to a rich, royal blue in that last hour before morning; its gem, the moon, shone full on the old pier while the last vestiges of silence were punctured by gunfire—and a scream._

"_No! Jodie-sensei said not to go back, Shin'ichi!"_

_Shin'ichi had glanced over his shoulder at her wide blue eyes as they misted with tears. A strange twist in his stomach, like a premonition, told him to stay; FBI agent Jodie Starling's cries spurred him forward. "It's okay," he said, with a wave and a reassuring grin. "I'll be back in a minute. Find a hiding spot and don't move—just wait."_

_In the moment before his steps propelled him around the corner, he caught sight of her shivering in his green jacket, nodding so her hair tossed in the salt breeze as she tugged her lips into a smile._

_And that was the last time he ever saw Mouri Ran alive._

Shin'ichi snapped upright, breathing heavily. He had no clue how long he had been rinsing the glass, but his fingertips were starting to prune. Shutting off the faucet, he groaned, tensing against the moisture that brimmed in the corners of his eyes. "Why did Miyano say that?"

10:05 p.m.

Far too early for Shin'ichi to awaken from the fuzzy feeling of drunkenness, but far too late for him to care. Somehow his hand had smacked into the remote control laying on the table beside him, blaring sirens and flashing red and white to pierce his closed eyelids.

It was the evening news. Two bank robbers had foolishly attempted to gun down police officers and found themselves gunned down instead. Long time partners and newlyweds, Takagi and Satou, had been the first at the scene, but had left all media questions for Inspector Megure. Shin'ichi wanted to shut off the broadcast and slip beneath the blanket of sleep, but found that he did not have the energy to move.

"At approximately 1:15 pm, construction workers near Beika Station lost control of a steel beam that fell to the sidewalk and nearly crushed surrounding pedestrians. Thankfully, no one was injured, and the president of Watanabe Construction, Maeda Takashi, expressed his deep regret at this incident," the cheerful anchor announced while shuffling papers between her manicured nails.

Eventually, Shin'ichi shifted off the table and, tucking his hands behind his head, leaned on his cushion against the wall. Though he had draped several shirts over the small TV stand, causing a sleeve to drape itself over half the screen, Shin'ichi could make out every pearly smile and polite bob of the anchor's head. _This woman was almost as perky announcing the syndicate's exposure. It must've been hard to rein in her enthusiasm, even with the related news of _that_._

The memory of that afternoon's incident traced its lines in Shin'ichi's frown. Three weeks ago, a car almost hit him as he stumbled into the road regardless of the red walk signal. Last week, while he worked part time lifting boxes, a crate almost slammed into him, but it broke just before impact—as if someone had kicked it.

But Shin'ichi shook his head, grabbing the remote control to turn off the television. "That's crazy," he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he grabbed the vodka bottle, poured a sloppy glass, and gulped, coughing at the fire that shot down his throat. "There's a logical explanation for it all. There _has_ to be."

"Maybe there is, Shin'ichi."

Shin'ichi's heart stopped. He froze, causing the bottle to slip from his fingers and spill on the mats below.

Hazy, blue light filled the room, rivaling the ceiling lamp in brilliance as it formed the shape of a young woman. Like a picture developing, lines and features appeared, even down to the detail of the woman's clothing: blue jeans, a violet, square necked tee, sneakers, and a familiar green jacket.

The same clothing she wore the night she was murdered.

Dropping his mouth wide, a single word dared to form itself and spill out. "Ran."

The girl's image cleared before Shin'ichi's stunned gaze, a perfect replication of Mouri Ran's seventeen year old self. She hovered slightly above the floor, so slightly that a dictionary could wedge itself between her dangling feet and the dusty ground; to Shin'ichi's surprise, she bent to remove her shoes before descending to the floor and offering Shin'ichi a nervous grin. "Sorry for startling you—and for the shoes," she added, with a soft, yet somewhat shrill laugh, "but I wasn't sure how I'd materialize. My senior said I could try it, but the energy would take half a year to replenish before I could try appearing for real, not that you'd know what that means."

"Ran," Shin'ichi mumbled, scooting on his backside to the wall. "That can't be you."

Drooping her head with a sad smile, Ran whispered, "Before, you would always say that after eliminating the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth, right?"

"H-Holmes said that, not me," Shin'ichi stammered, reaching forward to fumble on the table for his gin. This was too much; he was now willing to drink straight from the bottle. "Besides, he's just a fictional character. _You_ always said that. The fact that you're not saying it right now is proof that you're not—"

Rushing forward, Ran laid a hand on Shin'ichi's just before he reached the bottle. It felt like ice.

Shin'ichi snatched his hand away and muttered, "No." His curious nature took over, and against his will he found his eyes scouring Ran's face. "You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?" Ran asked, focusing her gaze on the table. She grasped the bottle of gin, squeezing her eyes shut as if straining an internal muscle; the bottle levitated in her ghostly grip and floated out of Shin'ichi's reach. As sadness weighed on her smile, she tsked and said, "You idiot, it's _this_ that shouldn't be here. Even Dad was never like this."

Shaking his head, Shin'ichi rubbed vigorously at his eyes and blinked. He had to be hallucinating, a fact that would set his mother on smothering mode. Still, he could not deny how clearly he saw her. Ran's eyes glowed crystal blue, the color of the mist that enveloped her and drew Shin'ichi toward her like a moth.

"I don't have much time," Ran said, balling her hands into fists as she set her jaw. "Shin'ichi, _stop it_. Don't you realize what you're doing?" Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment; her blue aura flashed violet. "You're killing yourself."

Shin'ichi gasped, watching in amazement as this ghostlike creature, no, this sorrowful representation of _her_, began to sob.

"I've been watching you, ever since that night," she continued. As her hands shifted the bottle behind her back, Shin'ichi could see the barest outline of the object through her body. "When you left, at the time I wasn't sure what to do. I was so scared that you wouldn't come back again."

Blinking, Shin'ichi murmured, "Ran . . . ."

Ran wiped at her tears with her knuckles, as if embarrassed to be seen crying. "You had just left when I felt it. A fire shot through my back, through my chest, and I looked down for a second and saw the blood—but that was all."

_Does she mean that she . . . right after I left?_

"I closed my eyes, then opened them, and you were kneeling over me, but I—I wasn't _in_ me anymore," Ran whispered, looking down while a blush flashed across her nose. "Everyone was there, crying, and I kept screaming that I was right there. But no one heard me."

Something inside Shin'ichi snapped, and he grabbed her hand. It was so cold, it felt like he had stuck his hand on a block of ice, but he did not care. "Ran, stop."

"Please, Shin'ichi, I have to finish," Ran said, looking away in shame, yet squeezing his hand in return. "I know that Mom and Dad spent more time together after I died, and that they're happy now. And I know, though Ai—S-Shiho's still hurting after getting rid of the apotoxin, that with the professor's help she has begun to find happiness, too. But you're _killing yourself!_" Tears gushed afresh from her eyes. "Why?"

"Stop, Ran," Shin'ichi cried, commanding his voice to remain calm. "Don't worry—"

"Don't you understand? You've pushed everyone away, turned away from everything you loved to do, and are doing nothing but drinking yourself sick!" Ran wailed. "This isn't you! I can't _help_ but worry!"

The words hit Shin'ichi like a slap in the face. Falling slack, he let go of Ran's hand and sank to the floor. "So you can't rest."

Stunned, Ran stared at Shin'ichi for a full minute before conceding with a nod. "B-but that's not why I came," she added, absently smoothing his rumpled collar. "It's just that you're getting so thin."

_Three times in a day,_ Shin'ichi thought to himself with a chuckle. The overhead light flickered as he scratched the back of his neck. _I must be cursed._ In a voice dripping with bitterness, he replied, "Maybe I am. If so, it's only justice."

"No, it's revenge," Ran said, her voice low and tinged with anger. "It's _murder._"

_Ran, oh, no . . . ._ His eyes shot wide in horror and his heart began to beat triple time. He understood for the first time what that pain in his chest meant and why he felt that odd wave of relief sweep over him as that massive steel beam came crashing upon him.

He wanted to die.

"No—no, no, _no, NO!_" Shin'ichi shouted, clamping his hands over his ears. "You're dead, Ran—_dead!_—because I wouldn't stay with you! A man in black who was after _me_ shot you, not even caring that we were going to lock him up for the rest of his life, because he _knew_ I couldn't prove who did it and add your murder to his charges. He just wanted to kill you to get revenge on me. Just to get revenge on _me!_"

Frost wrapped itself around Shin'ichi's tensed arms as tentative lips brushed against his forehead. When he looked up, he blushed to see Ran's forehead pressed to his. "I'm glad you didn't stay. I didn't want you to die, too."

Darkness cast its shadow over Shin'ichi's face for an instant; he rose onto his knees and freed his arms, only to wrap them tightly around her trembling back in an attempt to lend her strength. It seemed ironic. "Hey, Ran? It was you who saved me all those times, wasn't it?"

Ran said nothing, but nodded.

Shin'ichi managed to give her his old, dry grin. "Please, don't worry. If it will keep you from feeling so sad, and if it will let you rest, I'll try. I'll live."

In response, Ran sank onto his chest as Shin'ichi felt an inexplicable, glowing warmth rise there, like a golden wave glancing over the deep. She did not feel so heavy against him, either, as she whispered, "Thank you."

A faint glimmer of this same, golden light opened its eye at Ran's feet and shot upward, shining its brilliant lamp in the small room, expanding to reveal a distant field of blue that could only be described as perfect. The window that unveiled itself before the pair struck Shin'ichi's earth-bound sight as something vague and inviting, for the blue expanse did not glisten like a razor, or even a crystal, but like warm water. And yet, to his numbed fingertips, as the liquid strands of Ran's hair began to feel _real_, it also dawned on him that they had begun to fade.

"S-Shin'ichi, is this . . . ?" Ran gasped, raising a hand in the air and blinking with surprise. In the confines of the apartment, it became translucent, but while gazing toward the bright corridor, it became solid and healthy.

"Yeah." Shifting, Shin'ichi staggered to his feet, then bent forward to offer an outstretched hand. With a hiccup, tears rolled down Ran's cheeks as she took the hand and allowed him to pull her upright, though both of them knew she could float if she chose. As she stood, their eyes met. There was still so much to say, and yet so little time to say it. Shin'ichi opened his mouth, searching for an apology, an explanation, a question, _anything—_then closed it.

Only one thing mattered now.

Taking Ran's shoulders, he looked in her eyes one last time, and then leaned forward, paused, and gently touched her lips with a kiss. It felt feather light and tingled as Ran stepped back, and then, with a blush, rose on tiptoe to kiss him again. Easing apart, Ran fidgeted with her jacket, wiping her face in the shelter of her hair. With his arms hung loosely about Ran, Shin'ichi felt the strongest urge to cling to her and try to delay what was happening just a little while longer.

_But she looks so happy. _He smiled, his own cheeks catching fire at the errant tear that trickled disobediently down his face. _Finally, she _can_ be. _"It's time, right?"

Echoing his own answer, Ran nodded, crying and laughing at the same time. "Yeah."

"People love peace where you're going," Shin'ichi mock grumbled, slowly slipping his arms away from her. "So watch the karate."

"That's a silly thing to say, you detective geek," Ran giggled, nudging his elbow. A breeze began to blow through the portal, tossing Ran's hair into the air like a pinwheel. "And so you don't forget, Mr. Holmes of the Heisei Era, I know you lied about what you said to Inspector Megure. If you give up any more cases, I'll never forgive you."

"Okay," he replied, a lump rising in his throat at a promise he never realized would be so painful. His voice hoarse, he murmured, "I love you, Ran."

Ran stroked his cheek, regardless of the stubble. "I love you, too."

As Ran began to turn away, a thought suddenly occurred to him; shooting a hand toward her to catch her elbow, Shin'ichi said, "You said you had a senior. Then this person's also a restless soul. Who is it?"

With a small grin, she replied, "A woman I once knew as Hirota Masami."

Shin'ichi shook his head with a low chuckle. _I really am cursed, huh?_ Releasing Ran's elbow, he whispered, "Bye."

But Ran shook her head, stepping into the midst of the open portal. Blue, white, gold, and silver swirled about her at once, then blasted forward into the room, enveloping the world in blinding light. "See you."

Faint rose and orange ribbons tickled and coaxed Shin'ichi's eyelids open, causing him to blink, then cringe at the intrusion of sunlight though venetian blinds. As he lifted himself from his splayed position on the table, he clamped a hand on the back of his neck to rub its stiff, aching muscles. Glancing around the room, he got his bearings and realized it was not long after dawn.

_She's gone._

He leaned on the wall, wobbling as he tried to stand despite being hampered by the thousand pins and needles shooting through his legs. Scratching his head, he sighed. _What am I thinking? It was just a dream._

Then he eyed the floor. In the midst of scattered clothes and old, greasy newspapers was the vodka bottle he had spilled. Bending over, he raised it to eye level and shook the few drops left inside. _Hmph, I must've knocked it over in my sleep._ He grabbed the remaining bottle of gin by its neck and staggered into the kitchen, debating in the back of his mind how it had also found its way to the floor. But when he lifted the lid of the garbage can that had been overflowing for over a week, all debate was forgotten: the can was empty.

Shin'ichi jumped back, screwing his face in shock. _How . . . ?_

A possibility zipped though Shin'ichi's mind. Dodging the various obstacles on his path to the front door, Shin'ichi swung it open and looked outside. By the door were two, full garbage bags waiting for pickup. A grin tugged at Shin'ichi's lips as he shook his head, knowing there was only one person who both would and could do such a thing.

"Alright, you win. I guess I'd better straighten up around here," he said with a low laugh. Unceremoniously untying one of the garbage bags, Shin'ichi crammed _both_ bottles into it, tying it again before he could change his mind. He opened his neglected mailbox, sure it was packed with late payment notices. Just then, a small card slipped from the pile onto the ground.

Kneeling to pick it up, Shin'ichi's eyes went wide. It was the business card of Inspector Megure. What caught Shin'ichi's attention most of all, however, was some tiny writing scrawled in the lower right corner.

"I'll be waiting. Love, Ran."

Clutching the card tenderly in his free hand, Shin'ichi walked through the door, ready to close it behind him. He understood then why the infamous Vermouth, even on the stand, referred to Ran as an angel.

She was _his_, too.

* * *

Granted, I think this story could still use a lot of work, but in every creative endeavor there's a time to move on. Hee . . . .

Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	4. Warmth in the Falling Leaves

**Title:** Warmth in the Falling Leaves  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #19 – red  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 12/7/2006)

_Warmth in the Falling Leaves_

_Why is it so damn cold? _grumbled Kudou Shin'ichi, as a sharp gust of unseasonable autumn wind tore another score of russet and gold leaves from the groaning branches over his head. Swirling and settling to the ground, the immigrant leaves ruined the high school detective's current task of raking them into a pile.

"Great. Now we'll be out here for another hour," Shin'ichi said, glancing around at the disorder that was his gated yard. "What was Mom thinking?"

"She's probably thinking that the yard's a mess since no one's lived in it for so long," teased Mouri Ran, vigilant at her station beside a dappled mountain of leaves. Puffing air into her bare hands with a laugh, she added, "And there's proof! Didn't you say that people began to think your house was haunted?"

"The Shounen Tantei—I mean, those kids aren't just any people; they've got imaginations to rival Edgar Allan Poe. And Mom should worry more about her yard back in Los Angeles . . . whenever she and Dad finally stop worrying about me and go back there," Shin'ichi said, passing Ran the rake handle with one hand while wiping cold beads of sweat from his brow with the other. "At any rate, we should wait until the wind dies down."

To Shin'ichi's surprise, however, Ran snatched the rake from his hands, stalked toward the opposite end of the leafy pile, and began combing the soft grass with ferocity. Sticking her nose in the air, she muttered, "Then if you won't, I guess I'll have to rake by myself."

Shin'ichi stood there a moment and watched Ran's efforts with no little amusement. Though she held herself with dignity, her knees knocked beneath the dark stockings and the short, red skirt that blazed like fire beneath a certain green sweatshirt he had loaned her over a month ago. Under the circumstances, though, he was not about to ask for it back; in a strange, clashing way, it looked good on her.

Finally, he shook his head with a grin and strode toward her. "Here, let me do it," he said, doing his best to sound nonchalant as he took the rake from Ran's clammy fingers and shooed her aside. "Why don't you go in the house? Mom can get you something to eat."

But Ran likewise shook her head and crossed her shivering arms, fighting to preserve her look of determination as a lovely shade of crimson sprang to her cheeks. "Your mom only promised us that hot drink if we finished raking first."

_Oh, right . . . the apple cider Mom's friend in New York shipped from her orchard,_ Shin'ichi thought, with a dry chuckle, as he recalled that Ran still had not tried it. _So that's what this is about?_ "If that's the case, you can start filling the bags while I rake," he replied, jerking his thumb toward the pile of leaves as his mouth curved into a mischievous grin. There was something he had not done for a long time.

But Ran, blinking, nodded and proceeded to peer behind the mound, saying, "Hey, Shin'ichi, I don't see any ba—_aaaaaaaaah!_"

With a swift push, Shin'ichi sent Ran tumbling into the leaves, letting them swallow her in loud rustle and series of crunches as she thrashed in a fruitless effort to get out. A muffled squeal of anger arose from within the large mound, sounding vaguely like, "_Shin'ichi_, get me out of here or _so help me _. . . !"

"Hey, it's not my fault you're such an easy target!" Shin'ichi managed to choke out before erupting with laughter, though he felt a bit sorry at the hilarious sight of Ran wiggling and kicking beneath the leafy depths. It was during this distracted state that Ran suddenly leaped from the pile and dumped a shower of leaves onto Shin'ichi's head, going so far as to shove them into his scarf and jacket.

The battle was on.

Swerving to the right, Shin'ichi raced in a ring around the leaves, scooping handfuls and tossing them in Ran's face; she, in turn, chased him and took every opportunity to shove Shin'ichi closer and closer to the pile in the hopes of making him suffer the same fate he had dealt her. Finally, shifting tactics, she removed the sweatshirt that was _formerly_ Shin'ichi's and proceeded to whack him with it. As the wind picked up, their fight spread the leaves abroad, stirring a spicy scent into the air and causing the childhood friends' rosy cheeks and noses to glow.

Eventually, both of them teetered to a halt and gasped for breath, bending to rest their hands on their knees. It was then that realization sank in: the entire western half of Shin'ichi's yard was streaked with leaves—and general disarray.

"Oh no!" Ran cried, raising her hands to her cheeks in desperation. "We ruined—"

"Nah, the wind was going to ruin it, anyway," Shin'ichi said, the corners of his mouth pricking with satisfaction. "Mom said she forgot to buy bags."

Ran crossed her arms with a scowl. "She _what?_"

"Heh, don't worry. Mom really does have hot cider," Shin'ichi said, chuckling softly as he scooped up the fallen hooded sweatshirt from the ground. Blushing, he wound his arms around her and replaced the jacket around her shoulders.

"T-that's good to know," Ran mumbled, also blushing as she tugged the jacket close around her. In the shade of the grand old house, contrasted against the tangerine sky, Ran smiled, half hidden by the mane of hair that the now gentler wind tossed across her face.

Shin'ichi gave her a lopsided grin. It had not been long since he had finally been able to share his true feelings with Ran, and whenever he thought about it—_and_ was honest with himself—he still felt the same shyness grip his chest whenever he tried to express what she meant to him. And yet, as he lifted a tentative hand to brush away the strands from her shining eyes, he silently thanked her for accepting that. That, and everything.

Swallowing hard, he fought to ignore the swimming in his head as he gently grasped Ran's shoulders. Leaning closer and bending forward, he felt her warm breath catching in the air as she fluttered her eyelids closed—

"Oh, _Shin-chan!_"

Shin'ichi bolted at the perky voice and even perkier figure that called from the front door. He and Ran pulled away at once, their eyes meeting, blue on blue, for a nanosecond before a full blush engulfed their faces. In a feeble attempt to act natural, Shin'ichi released Ran's shoulders, squatted, and then leaned backward as if he had been working with the muddy leaves on the ground. "W-what is it, Mom?"

Yukiko's loose curls bounced over the giant, woolen turtleneck she wore, shaking with every giggle of her delight. "Just thought you and Ran would like to come in for dinner."

_Whew, that's a relief_, Shin'ichi sighed, wiping the new outbreak of cold sweat from his forehead. Glancing sidelong at Ran, who nervously dug her toe into the ground, he thought, _If Mom saw us—_

"But if you're enjoying yourselves out here," Yukiko chirped, flashing a brilliant smile to outshine the silvery twilight, "I won't interrupt you two!"

Shin'ichi and Ran froze. Open mouthed and staring at the ground, they no longer flushed red, but _purple_.

"Oh, so sorry! Forget I was here!" Yukiko called, before flitting into the house and letting her laughter echo into the night.

After a beat, Shin'ichi spied Ran shift in the corner of his eye. Her gaze still transfixed on the strewn leaves at her feet, she bit her lip and fidgeted with the hooded sweatshirt's worn sleeve.

_Good job, Mom,_ Shin'ichi groused to himself._ Ran's probably too embarrassed to stay for dinner; if she wants to go home, I wouldn't blame her._ Stretching his arms behind his neck in an effort to forget his own embarrassment, Shin'ichi tilted his head to watch Ran and sighed._ Besides, it's not like I can kiss her now._

Shin'ichi stretched toward the darkening sky with a yawn, scratched his head, and coughed. Ran still had not moved a muscle. "Well, um . . . I guess we should be heading inside, if you still want—"

Suddenly, as Shin'ichi stepped toward the door, Ran leapt in his path, put her hands on his chest, and rose on tiptoe to press her lips against his. A half-taken breath caught in Shin'ichi's throat, racing his heart yet rooting him to the spot, unable to think or move. As his eyes widened in shock, his normally deductive mind spluttered, _W-wha . . . ?_

Only a moment later, Ran pulled away, sank to her heels, and hugged the hooded sweatshirt around her shivering form. Nodding, she shyly smiled and murmured, "Y-yes, let's go inside."

Blinking, Shin'ichi also began to nod, but then a thought occurred to him. Maybe Ran had not been so much embarrassed as . . . disappointed? Shin'ichi shook his head with a chuckle as he reached forward to rub the chill from Ran's arms. "Hey, why don't we rake the leaves the right way next time?"

"Next time?" Ran asked, a gentle shade of pink tickling her nose. She dropped her arms to her sides, the leaves tumbling around them both as they lingered in what almost felt like an embrace.

"Sure. And I'll get the bags if Mom doesn't," Shin'ichi replied with a grin, catching Ran's hand and leading her toward the house.

"And the cider?" Ran asked, laughing as she trailed behind him.

"How? Import more from America? No, thanks," muttered Shin'ichi, despite the fresh, red warmth that blazed on his cheeks as he gave Ran's hand a squeeze. Somehow, even the frigid night did not feel so cold anymore.

* * *

So there we have it! A relatively plotless Kiss of warm fuzzies to balance Kiss #3's angst. Hope you enjoyed it! Commenting would be much appreciated.


	5. Droplet

**Title:** Droplet  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #29 – the sound of waves  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 1/8/2007)

_Droplet_

_Drip . . . ._

Mouri Ran traced her finger along the darkened window glass, trailing each new drop of rain. It was a habit she loved as a little girl, chasing the raindrops one by one; she would start as high as she could reach on tiptoe with her stubby fingers, then speed her fingertip down. At first, her father scolded her, especially when she smudged the broad windows bearing the fresh lettering of the Mouri Detective Agency, but soon the gentle drops beckoned her to play with them again.

Times like those made Kogorou cave and suggest she run off and play with "that brat", Shin'ichi. And she would gladly scamper off, knowing that even if the boy dragged her into another long game of detective—forcing Ran to play the criminal, victim, or trusty sidekick opposite Shin'ichi's _meitantei_—she would still have cookies to share with him and his sweet, funny mommy and daddy.

But when night fell, one way or another Ran would find her way back to the windowpane and chase the rain or, if the rain had stopped, count as many of the beaded drops as she could. More or less unconsciously, Ran even kept time with her father's drunken snoring.

_Drip . . . drip drip . . . drip . . . ._

Kogorou was slumped across his desk again, unaware that the sun had sunk beneath the horizon hours ago as he dozed amid a half dozen empty beer cans. Glancing toward him, Ran sighed, swearing that it would be his own fault if he caught cold or woke up with aches and pains. It was getting so late that she decided to leave him be. Conan had left suddenly those few hours ago, saying that Dr. Agasa had a new gadget to show him; whenever the boy flashed her his trademark grin and promised not to be out too late with that cute voice of his, Ran had begun to believe it less and less.

And Shin'ichi . . . the previous night, when Ran had murmured into her cell phone the age old question of when he was finally going to return home—as she hoped, not just to his abandoned, ivy-covered house—he had given her the age old answer, revealing nothing except more of the same. It was hard not to feel foolish for caring so much about the detective geek; he was clearly thoughtless and had no idea just how much she thought of him, worried about him, wondered where the heck he was or what he was eating. But unlike the certainty she felt about her mother returning, even after ten years of separation, she felt as if Shin'ichi were slipping from her grasp forever, behind the curtain of inky night that draped the Beika streets with its canopy. And this time, not just the heart of her home, but half of herself slipped away.

_He_ was too much a part of her now. Not even Sonoko had managed to enter that place, deep inside, where she used to be alone—not even her mother or father. Hugging her cotton pajamas closer about her chest, she bit her lip; she could not help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought.

And so, here she sat in the dark with her waterdrop companions dotting the windows. They had shrunk in her sight with every year she had grown; yet the glass still kissed her fingertips with its moist chill as it always did, numbing them against the cold.

_Drip drip . . . drip . . . ._

Ran mused that maybe this was the reason she felt so close to the little, timid drops. They were like tears, and no one liked to cry alone.

_Drip . . . .  
_

* * *

After fluff comes more angst! This one had to be a bit smaller due to time constraints; the idea did not come until an hour before it was due! It was inspired by my desire to explore more hues and shades of Ran's character . . . in the wake of complaints about how Gosho's been neglecting to do it. (I love Aoyama-sensei, but that's kinda true.) Hope it was meaningful and enjoyable. Please review!


	6. Just You

**Title:** Just You  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #8 – our own world  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 2/9/2007)

_Just You_

Drowsiness weighed on Kudou Shin'ichi's eyelids, fighting to keep them closed as he blinked and shivered. Half of his chest lay exposed to the surrounding chill that had settled into the suite some time before, but the first thing Shin'ichi sensed, as he breathed deeply and tried to recollect his surroundings, was the fresh scent of hair. A cascade of dark tresses spilled across his neck like silk, pooling as it framed the profile of the slumbering figure beside him; all that peeked from beneath that natural veil was a small hand whose ring, a simple band, shone dull blue in the predawn light.

Blushing slightly, Shin'ichi gave Ran a smile and reached across her back, grasping the quilted comforter and tugging it over her shoulder to restore some warmth to them both. It failed to surprise Shin'ichi when, despite his movement, Ran did not stir or even shift in her deep sleep. His breath caught, instead, when she began to murmur a simple phrase by his ear.

"Fine . . . as you are . . . ."

_Oh._ A burst of red flared on his cheeks as Ran whispered words that Shin'ichi knew too well. After all, he had said them.

Leaning against the pillows, Shin'ichi tucked a hand behind his head and surveyed the hotel suite with its Victorian furnishings. Turning from the drapes to his right that shut out the brightening sky, he peered thoughtfully at the tall dresser in the far left corner—or rather, beneath it. Their largest suitcase lay flat and unzipped on the plush carpet with much of its contents scattered about in small piles. A few short hours ago, that luggage landed with a thump by the walnut chairs upholstered in ivory and blue embroidery, only to be joined by their five other pieces of luggage and a very nervous bride.

—

"And here we are! Our finest honeymoon suite!" cried the Hotel Flambeau proprietor Kimura Masao, turning the carved brass knob and throwing wide the door. Sweeping to the side, he let the tall, lanky bellhop pass with the luggage cart and, afterward, bowed with showman's grace as Kudou Shin'ichi and Ran peeked their heads into the room.

Modern architecture aside, the suite first struck Shin'ichi as coming straight from a movie set or museum. The Hotel Flambeau was a relatively new hotel located not far from Beika, but prided itself on appealing to high class customers with old world charm—at least, in the western sense. Pearl, plush carpeting created a cushioned display for the imitation antique, gold-accented furniture, including a large dresser, a sitting area to the right consisting of a table and two chairs, an _armoire_ entertainment center to the left, and a bed against the far wall whose four posts spiraled to almost touch the ceiling.

Shin'ichi groaned. Now he understood why his mother had enthused so much about this place, describing it as the perfect place from him and Ran to stay the night before their flight to England: she was a sucker for Victorian style. Even for a Holmes fan, it was too much.

"Come, come in, my lady!" Kimura said, waddling his stout frame toward Ran and taking her hand with gusto. When she balked and tried to pull it from his strong grip, he blinked, asking, "What's this? Where's your lovely wedding ring?"

"I'm w-wearing it underneath my glove so it won't fall off," Ran replied, in another failed attempt to tug her fingers free.

Letting his thick mustache spread from ear to ear in a grin, Kimura proclaimed, "Come, no need to be bashful! Come and look around! Drink it all in, for within a lady's chamber she is the queen!"

Chuckling at the man's impromptu monologue, Shin'ichi thought, _So that's it. Our discounted rate could only be coming from that dramatic guy because—_

"And, furthermore," Kimura concluded, bowing with a flourish before the blushing Ran, "your beauty is more than a fitting addition to the Kudou family."

_He knows Mom, _Shin'ichi thought, as a sweat drop beaded on his forehead.

Still, despite the lame method of Kimura's observation, Shin'ichi agreed. Tuning out both the loud thumps of each suitcase as they hit the floor and the proprietor's bloated speeches, Shin'ichi smiled and trailed behind Ran as she lifted her skirts to step into the room. She still wore her wedding gown of white satin and tulle that billowed to the ground from her ribbed bodice; her veil, flowing from a sparkling tiara, brushed her chin and obscured her waves of thick, dark hair as she laid a hand on one of the bedposts, then stared through the slightly parted curtains. If he had not known Ran all his life, Shin'ichi would declare with a grin that she glided about like an ideal lady.

In fact, as Ran wandered toward the curtains, she almost seemed too ideal. Even with the lights of Tokyo shining against her outline, Shin'ichi's thoughts drifted to the last time he saw her before the ceremony. From that point on, her posture was tense and her smile like a stiff mask, as if she were posing for an old fashioned photograph.

"Well, now, I'll leave you two, but be sure to ask for me personally if you need anything," Kimura said at last, with a hearty laugh. Adjusting the tie of his silk suit and tails, which seemed better suited for a ringmaster than a hotel proprietor, in Shin'ichi's opinion, he bowed with a spirited wave and departed.

As Shin'ichi craned his neck to watch Kimura bound away to parts unknown, the bellhop bowed slightly and said, "Please enjoy your stay."

Shin'ichi made sure to double his tip—as special thanks for his brevity—before he slipped through the door and shut it behind the newlyweds with a _click_. Sticking his clammy hands in his tuxedo pockets, Shin'ichi eyed the closing door. Its sound was discreet, and yet it echoed with a knell of finality.

Turning back, Shin'ichi saw Ran do likewise—and their eyes met.

"_No, you idiot, I'm not talking about where you're going to go on your honeymoon," Hattori Heiji chuckled, grinning mischievously. Seagulls mocked the young men from above, catcalling as they swooped over the waves, while Heiji rubbed a headache-inducing fist into Shin'ichi's head of salty hair. "I mean what are you planning to _do?_"_

"_H-Hattori!" Shin'ichi cried, his entire face and torso flushing red. He would not be surprised if the steam from his body sent smoke signals over the rocks where they sat, making Ran and the other girls wonder where the fire was. Pushing Heiji's arm, he spat, "I would've told you_ _if that was_ any of your business!_"_

_Smirking, Heiji backed away and spread his hands. "Don't kill me because you're shy!"_

Silence hung like a thick blanket over the suite as Ran and Shin'ichi shifted uncomfortably. While Ran smoothed the folds of her gown, Shin'ichi scratched his head and racked his brain for something intelligent to say. "Er, you want to use the bathroom?"

Ran blinked. "Huh?"

_What the hell kind of stupid question was that? _Shin'ichi grumbled to himself. "I mean," he tried again, ambling across the room to meet Ran at the bay windows, "you can go ahead first and change, if you want." Goose bumps shot up Ran's arms at that; her gloves did not reach as far as her elbows, and short sleeves hugged her shoulders, so it would be no surprise to Shin'ichi if she was cold. Reaching with a sigh to rub her bare upper arms, Shin'ichi asked, "You're probably uncomfortable in that dress, right?"

"_No!"_ Ran cried, throwing her hands up and cringing as a hot blush bloomed on her cheeks. With a sidelong glance, Ran shook her head and giggled, stammering, "I—I mean, you can go ahead."

Letting her arms go, Shin'ichi arched an eyebrow in confusion. "You okay?"

"Of course I'm okay, silly," Ran replied, with trademark cheer, though she fidgeted with her dress' boning at the same time. Then, she opened her mouth and closed it, meeting his gaze in the soft lamplight. "Um, Shin'ichi?"

_Then there is something?_ Shin'ichi wondered, knitting his brow. "Yeah?"

Ran set her jaw and pressed her rose tinted lips in a tight line. Then, she took a deep breath. "What do you think of—how important is it for—for a wife to please her husband?"

Now Shin'ichi was really puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"N-nothing," Ran replied. A twitch developed in her smile while a fine shade of red spread to the top of her head, threatening to set her veil on fire. "It's just that I should probably get started—sorting my luggage!"

And with that, Ran gathered her skirts again and flitted in a wide arc around the bed to her suitcases in the far corner of the suite, leaving Shin'ichi to stare after her, bewildered. Then, he rubbed his forehead and groaned, wondering if no amount of loving Ran would let him plumb the surface, let alone the depth, of her mystery. _Why do women have to be so damn confusing?_

"I'll just be a few minutes, so . . . ." Ran called over her shoulder, flashing him the brightest smile before dropping onto her hands and knees—amid flounces and tulle—and unzipping the largest suitcase nearest the dresser.

_Her smile, just like this morning._ Shin'ichi frowned. It was such a short time ago, just before the whirlwind of activity had swept them into the wedding chapel, and then out to the reception with scores of police officers, lawyers, the rich and famous friends of the Kudous, and all their former classmates. Before all of this, Shin'ichi had been pacing the hall with Heiji, his best man, when the door beside him flew open—less than an arm's length away from whacking him in the head.

"_What the?!" he cried, wobbling on one leg to avoid being run over by a blur of white. The figure halted in her tracks on the floral carpeting and gaped in horror as Shin'ichi straightened, then recognized her. "Ran?"_

"_Don't worry, Neechan," Heiji said, grabbing Shin'ichi in a choke hold with a puckish grin. "He needed the distraction."_

"_Shut up, Hattori," Shin'ichi grumbled, through gritted teeth._

_Holding a graceful hand to her lips, Ran's panicked expression softened. Shin'ichi and Ran stared at each other then, and it felt as if, for a split second, she lowered her guard so only he could peer through that dark window into her soul—right before she closed the shutters._

"_Sorry anyway, Shin'ichi," Ran said, looking away with a giggle. "I was, um, just going to check on something, but it can wait until later." Backing slowly toward the door, she turned the knob and stepped inside, flashing him a smile that glittered with contentment._

"_Hey, Hattori, you think she's alright?" Shin'ichi muttered, after Ran closed the bridal chamber door behind her. He knew that joy always exuded from Ran like a scent; it never sparkled like a toothpaste ad._

"_Eh, she'll be fine. I'm sure it's just jitters," Heiji replied, whacking Shin'ichi between the shoulder blades. Chuckling, he added, "You got those too, right?"_

"Yeah, I guess so," Shin'ichi murmured aloud, watching Ran rummage through her belongings and fling various items to the ground. Deodorant, unopened cartons of pantyhose, shirts, jeans, striped socks—nothing was safe. All the while, Shin'ichi could not forget the intense bundle of nerves that Ran barely revealed to him. _Still, this is more than jitters. It has to be._

A thought struck him. _Her luggage?_

Ignoring the idea that Ran's suitcase bothered her enough to make her dive into it on their wedding night, since that was ridiculous, Shin'ichi loosened the bow tie around his neck, started to whistle off-key, and padded across the room toward Ran—far enough from the corridor leading into the suite's bath to make her blink in surprise.

"S-Shin'ichi, what are you doing here?" Ran asked, recovering quickly enough to slam her suitcase shut and offer another twitching smile.

Grasping the handle of his smaller suitcase, one in brown leather to combat the onslaught of pure black, otherwise nondescript luggage, he replied, "You said 'I do,' then _I_ said 'I do'—"

"That's not what I meant," Ran retorted, plunking her hands on her hips. Her cheeks retained a rosy glow under Shin'ichi's watchful eye, making her look rather cute.

"Hey, I'd like to see you try brushing your teeth without a toothbrush," Shin'ichi muttered, removing said toothbrush and paste from the front compartment of his bag. Then, with sardonic flair, he leaned over Ran with the brush and bonked her on the head. When Ran swiped at the toothbrush while fighting a muffled laugh, he had a feeling that now was as good a time as any to ask. "Why do you want to sort your things so badly, anyway?"

Ran paused, then shifted and began to play with a corner of her veil. "Well, we'll only be here tonight before our flight to England, and because of Sonoko's slumber party," she quickly added, "I mixed everything together."

_Oh, that's right,_ Shin'ichi thought, scowling to himself. _Because Sonoko gave that party last night way out there in her mountain villa, all the women had to rush to the wedding hall._ Scratching his head, he asked, "Why did you agree to go, anyway? Sonoko knows that place freaks you out."

"She kind of kept it a surprise," Ran said with a shudder, gathering some of the ejected clothing into a small pile by her lap. Taking a plain, white towel and folding it, Ran grinned. "Besides, she was only trying to help, to be a good friend."

Shin'ichi froze. _Sonoko—_

"Actually, Shin'ichi," Ran said, tucking the thick towel with her toothbrush and soap into a smaller travel bag, "if you like, I'll go change first."

_So, it's probably that,_ Shin'ichi thought, disbelief tugging his lips into a smile. Leaning forward so shadows obscured his face, he offered an upturned palm to Ran. Blinking, she took it, and coupled with her strength he pulled her to her feet with ease. As she tried to walk past, however, he did not let her go. "Ran, what are you hiding in the bag?"

Startled, Ran tried to pull her hand free, but stopped when Shin'ichi laced his fingers through hers and said, "I'd call you an idiot if I wasn't one, too." With a chuckle, he added, "And that doesn't happen often, right?"

Swallowing hard, Ran opened her mouth to protest, then sighed. Swinging the aquamarine travel bag in her free hand, the color on her cheeks intensified as she murmured, "You know, I had a feeling that you would figure it out. Before I came back, I mean."

Shin'ichi released her and loosened his collar, feeling sweat drops spring to his forehead. Ran, for her part, chewed her lip when she unzipped the bag and fished for the towel—one that Shin'ichi knew she would not need in this amenities overloaded hotel—unraveling it to reveal a piece of clothing that was small, silky, and red. The thing was stitched in the shape of a bathing suit, but no one could get away with wearing it since vast patches of scarlet lace served as material, letting the lamplight shine through and set it ablaze.

"Uh . . . ." Shin'ichi trembled, not so much surprised at seeing the teddy as battling total combustion. Held above the fluffy, white towel between Ran's hands, the skimpy lingerie would almost have appeared to be a silk and lace bouquet, if it were not tinted such a garish orange. Cursing his vocal chords for not working right, he coughed and stammered, "Were you, uh, planning to wear it?"

Ran's shoulders sank then, and she stared at the floor, letting both gloved hands drop with their contents; clutching the fiery teddy in one and the ivory towel in the other, she looked torn. She tried to laugh, but it rose from her lungs like a sigh. "I don't know. I've been trying to figure it out for hours." Glancing upward, she blushed, her blue eyes shining with raw anxiety, and she searched Shin'ichi's face. "But if _you_ want . . . ."

Beneath Ran's sweet laugh and reassurances was a roiling, black cloud. It had festered for ages, through the long months of telephone calls, with every offer of her best cooking, and bubbling even beneath her breathless promises to love, honor, and cherish. Insecurity could do that to anyone. But now, at least now, she showed it.

_And now I can see you._

Gazing into those open windows, Shin'ichi moved closer and gently cupped Ran's chin. "What do you think?"

Ran gasped. "Shin'ichi—"

"Like I said, I'm an idiot, too," he said with a chuckle, smoothing a thumb over Ran's bottom lip that retained only the barest traces of makeup. Lowering his voice, he looked into her eyes with growing intensity. "What it comes down to is that there is no one else here."

Tears rose to the corners of Ran's eyes and glistened as they threatened to spill over. Drawing a sharp breath, she whispered, "Are you sure?"

Shin'ichi smiled. He resisted the urge to tease her for implying someone else _was_ there, but he understood what she meant. Edging closer so their noses brushed, he nodded. "You're fine, just as you are."

"Shin'ichi." Ran spoke the name hoarsely, choking back the sob that Shin'ichi knew yearned to escape, but he did not give it time. He pressed his lips to hers, allowing the intoxicating rush to let him linger there only a moment before he withdrew and waited.

All he could hear in the otherwise silent room was their breathing, the only scent the delicate perfume on her neck, the only sight her eyes that, like twin pools, reflected sunshine. But then, a faint rustle fell at each side as Ran dropped her burdens and slid her arms around his waist. Tilting his head and shutting his eyes little by little, this time he brushed her parted lips, then caught them eagerly.

One last thought sprang to mind before Shin'ichi, winding his arms around her, let the thrill of her touch overwhelm him. Maybe he was not perfect for her, as she feared she was not perfect for him, but he would offer her everything.

—

A faint stream of gold began to invade the suite, shielded from Shin'ichi's sleepy eyes by a neighboring lampshade. Raising his head into the light, however, Shin'ichi glanced at the sleeping Ran and her long, beautiful tangle of hair.

It was more like her than him, he knew, to give the very best of herself and not hold back. Though it seemed a strange time to remember, he recalled his attempt to turn down his middle school soccer manager by explaining what made Ran so special. All he could think to say was that she was strong and stubborn, but gentle and sensitive—and that she had everything. _Not like I deserve it,_ he thought, pressing a light kiss against her forehead.

Ran stirred then. Her eyelashes fluttering, she whimpered as she strained to focus but could only murmur, "Shi—"

"Shh," Shin'ichi hushed, brushing strands of her bangs aside. "Go back to sleep."

She gratefully did so, easing herself to snuggle against his chest with a blushing smile. Though Shin'ichi started and flushed, realizing that sleep would now be impossible, he then slipped his arms around her back. The sunlight had already begun to chase the shadows away, and would soon steal this precious time; at least he could give Ran a few more minutes of sleep. Shin'ichi did not mind lingering a little longer in their own world, letting the rest of world, the world that lay beyond their whisper quiet door, wait for them to meet it together.

* * *

"Wow! Mr. Kimura, you used to be an _actor?_" Ran exclaimed, wonder spreading across her features at the rotund man who greeted them personally at their breakfast table.

_I knew it,_ Shin'ichi thought, his eyebrow developing a twitch all its own.

"Yes, my dear!" Kimura exclaimed, tucking his thumbs proudly beneath his lapels. Winking, he added, "I'll have you know I once starred alongside the illustrious Kudou Yukiko, though she was not a Kudou at the time."

"Huh?" Shin'ichi asked, this time with genuine surprise. In all the stories his mother told of her brief acting career, she never once mentioned being in a production with this melodramatic man. _Wonder why that is._

"It was a local, televised adaptation of Shakespeare's _Othello_," Kimura declared. Suddenly planting his feet apart, he puffed his chest, flung a finger at Shin'ichi and bellowed, "O curse of marriage, that we can call these delicate creatures ours and not their appetites!"

The whole restaurant fell silent.

After Shin'ichi's heart resumed beating and he uncurled his fingers from the tablecloth, Ran offered Kimura a weak smile and an even weaker smattering of applause. Groaning, Shin'ichi drooped and thought, _That's why._

* * *

Like my past efforts, this took much blood, sweat, tears, and time. There's so much I _could_ say about my love-hate relationship with it (hee!) but I'll pass; suffice it to say that, though my own insecurities and longings match Ran's, I hope this story conveys a special bit of beauty. If my ambitions for this Kiss have been fulfilled, however, then the words will be its heartbeat and voice. (Gosh, aren't we waxing poetic?) Later!


	7. Just Friends

**Title:** Just Friends  
**Author: **RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #2 – news; letter  
**Rating: **PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 3/11/2007)

_Just Friends_

The closing chimes rang, and all students without club meetings, duties, or worse, detention, burst through the doors of Teitan High School, eager to enjoy the brisk air and sunshine. Two students, however, strolled more leisurely side by side; Kudou Shin'ichi yawned and blinked the grogginess from his eyes, too sleepy to exert himself in hurrying from the schoolyard, while Mouri Ran tossed her chestnut hair in the spring breezes, then swung her satchel by her side and flashed him a bright smile.

"You said Inspector Megure doesn't need to meet with you today, right?" Ran asked, walking close beside Shin'ichi, her energy bottled in each springing step.

"Yeah. Though I guess I should go home and study . . . didn't catch that last class," Shin'ichi muttered, shifting his satchel over his shoulder with a shrug. He stepped aside as some girls from a neighboring class dashed between him and Ran, linking arms and giggling about their supposedly hot teacher while they bounded through the front gate. Shin'ichi grimaced. _Guess they can't walk and gossip at the same time._

"_That's_ because you slept through it again," Ran groaned. Clasping her hands behind her back, she hesitated and asked, with a blush, "Um, you can come over to the Agency and study—if you'd like."

Each day in the two weeks since Shin'ichi regained his height and his freedom had been busy and unpredictable, but flavored by an undercurrent of sweetness, not that either he or Ran would admit that to anyone else. The glances they stole, the lunches they ate together, the few but special words they exchanged about feelings that they still fumbled to share—all of them more than made up for the wait. But . . . .

Scratching his head, Shin'ichi returned the offer with a sheepish grin. "Er, yeah. That'd be—"

"Hey, if it isn't the married couple!"

Old habits die hard. And in more ways than one.

Both Shin'ichi and Ran glanced at the open doors, startled, as a familiar group of male classmates rushed toward Shin'ichi, pounding his back without mercy. The most boisterous one in the group, a long haired blonde named Takeshi whose broad shoulders could crack bricks, grabbed Shin'ichi in a head lock and ground a fist into his already mussed shock of hair. He chuckled and said, "No wonder you didn't see us in the hall! Going home with your _wife_, huh?"

"Sheesh, what are you talking about?" Shin'ichi grumbled, breaking free and brushing his jacket sleeves. "You were hanging around in there for over ten minutes, talking about something stupid. _Some_ of us wanted to go home."

"Heh, so he admits it!" said Seiji, another classmate with dark, bristly hair like a bottle brush and sinus problems that gave him the most nasal voice in the school. Sidling over to Ran, who crossed her arms without bothering to hide her disgust, he nudged her and whispered for everyone to hear, "Didn't want us at the wedding?"

"Cut it out," Shin'ichi snapped, a five alarm blush rising to his cheeks in unison with hers.

The smallest of them, Mizuki, who never seemed able to straighten his crooked tie, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and smirked. "Not like we care, but it's not exactly _news_ that you're going out."

Instinct surged through Shin'ichi and Ran's veins, making them gulp loud enough to alert pedestrians three blocks away. Their mouths twitching and fists clenching, a sound gargled from the hollow of their throats and, after some moments, formed words that they blurted out.

"We're just friends!"

They gasped. Wincing as heat rose from their necks up, Shin'ichi and Ran glanced sidelong at each other, speechless. _What?_

This was too much for their tormentors. Snickering, they clutched their stomachs, some bursting into hearty laughter as they doubled over and shook. Then, stumbling over each other, they bolted across the street, narrowly avoiding rush hour traffic and being squashed into Teitan High pancakes. Takeshi cupped a hand around his grinning mouth and bellowed, "Mr. Detective! Call us when you get a clue . . . or when your wife lets you out of the doghouse!"

"How about when you learn to mind your own business?" Shin'ichi spat in reply, his acidic retort undercut by the slight squeak in his voice.

"Ooooh!" they jeered, just before a construction worker laid on his truck's horn and yelled for them to get the hell out of his way.

"Hmph," huffed Shin'ichi, reaching behind his head to let it rest in his cold, sweaty palms. Though he choked down the butterflies that rose to his throat, his blush still burned as the rowdy crew laughed and whistled before rounding the corner. "Those guys don't know when to shut up."

"Mmm," said Ran, nodding. She toed a crack in the ground and strained her lips into a tight smile.

Shin'ichi swallowed hard and glanced at the sky, its puffy cloud formations suddenly sparking his interest. The cool breeze felt refreshing, but offered no relief. Clearing his throat, he said, "You know that didn't mean anything, right? It was just one of those, uh . . . reactions."

"R-right!" cried Ran, her enthusiasm ringing with a dull echo on the concrete. "We're both used to saying it all the time, so . . . ."

"And it's not like it's any of their business, anyway," Shin'ichi added, following Ran through the gate and onto the sidewalk. Most of their classmates had left already, leaving the spot almost deserted, save for the rumbling cars.

"Right," Ran replied, softly.

A pair of schoolchildren darted past them out of nowhere, giggling and running so fast that one of them, a girl with a little braid bound in pink ribbon, bumped into Ran's leg. But before the girl could bow and stammer her apologies, a freckle faced boy with smudged pants grabbed her hand and dragged her away, grumbling to himself about finishing homework in time for Kamen Yaiba.

Watching them leave, Shin'ichi scratched his head and looked down while Ran knit her eyebrows together.

Then, at once, they spun and faced each other—to blurt out _different_ words.

"Is going out too much for—"

"Are you really in love with—"

Ran, blushing furiously, finished speaking as Shin'ichi paused, wide eyed. " . . . me?"

Shin'ichi blinked. _Huh?_

Ran held her fists at her sides, but her gaze was both sharp and pleading, as if she braced for the worst. "Because, even though you know how I—" Her voice broke and she glanced away. "Even though you know, it's alright if you don't . . . feel the same way. You can tell me."

Shin'ichi gave her a sad smile, then moved closer, catching a silky strand of her hair between his fingers. "Idiot, you think I'd lie to you about _that?_"

Ran's breath caught.

"If you want to know the truth," Shin'ichi said, letting his satchel drop to the ground so he could grasp her chilled hand, "it's actually something I'd been waiting to tell you for a long time."

Swallowing, Ran searched his gaze with her own, trembling slightly at his touch.

"B-but," he continued, his face flaring red, "you didn't know about that before, so I understand if—"

Ran lifted a hand to brush his cheek, stunning him into silence. Warmth bloomed beneath her fingers as she clutched his hand more firmly for support and rose on tiptoe.

Partly shielded by the tall, silver pole of a streetlight, Shin'ichi's pulse nevertheless began to race at the fact that they were still in front of their school, on an empty but public sidewalk, and nearby dense traffic. But as Ran squeezed her eyes shut, he could hear and feel her heartbeat throbbing faster, too. Shin'ichi inched his eyelids closed and bent nearer to her upturned lips. _But . . . we're not just friends anymore._

"Is that _Kudou Shin'ichi?!_"

Shin'ichi and Ran opened their eyes and, for a split second, stared in shock before Shin'ichi straightened and turned around, flinging his arms wide as Ran huddled in the shade of his back. A trio of bubbly girls soon trotted across the street, this time at the crosswalk, and shrieked with excitement. Their uniforms of green and white looked unfamiliar to Shin'ichi, but their giggles, whispers, fidgeting hands, and squealing all suggested one identity.

Fangirls.

Stopping to gather around him just opposite the streetlight, they rummaged through their bags with glee and produced pens and rumpled sheets of paper, which also suggested that, thankfully, they had failed to notice how close their idol had come to kissing a strange girl in their presence. The shortest girl, one with bouncy pigtails and a dainty nose, was shoved forward by her friends.

"M-Mr. Kudou?" the girl spluttered, turning pink with the effort. Fast as lightning, she bowed and thrust a clipped newspaper article in Shin'ichi's face. "Please autograph this for me!"

"Atsuko here is your biggest fan!" enthused another girl with thick, purple mascara after popping a wad of bubble gum between her teeth. "Even though you were away so long, she still recognized the back of your head because of all the newspaper clippings on her wall—and here!" she added, wrestling another wad of papers free from her classmate's bag. "Take these! They're _loooove_ poems!"

"Shut up, Minami!" Atsuko retorted, elbowing the girl in her ribs and beginning a futile battle to wrangle her poems from the much taller girl's grip.

Shin'ichi was frozen in place. _Are these girls serious?_

"That article's the one from today about exposing the criminal syndicate, right?" chimed in the third fan, a pencil-thin girl with hair that fell to her waist in auburn waves._ "So cool!_ Mr. Kudou," she squealed, tugging at his jacket sleeve, "would you like to come with us to the Dalgliesh Cafe down the street and tell us about it?"

"Shin'ichi."

All four of them halted at the perky, yet threatening female voice that emerged behind the Holmes of the Heisei Era. The fangirls glared at each other, wondering which one of them had dared address their beloved by his first name. Shin'ichi just cringed.

Gliding into view, Ran flashed them all a cheery smile and rested a hand on Shin'ichi's arm. "I don't think we've met before, hm? My name's Mouri Ran . . ."

Shin'ichi's heart skipped a beat.

Fire flashed in her brilliant blue eyes. " . . . and I'm Shin'ichi's _girlfriend_."

The trio gasped, covering their mouths in the horror of it all. Only the redhead who, in the girls' quick whispers, Shin'ichi learned was called Chieko, remained silent and thoughtful—in a loose sense of the word. Minami, her mouth open wider than a fish, turned from him to Ran, then to him, then to Ran again, babbling nonsense to herself. But it was poor Atsuko that asked for trouble.

"N-no way! That's impossible!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger between Ran's eyes. Her pigtails sprang and danced upon her narrow cheekbones as she shook her head in disbelief. "I _know_ Mr. Kudou's never had a girlfriend!"

Shin'ichi arched an eyebrow, held back from speaking by Ran's hidden, but smouldering glare through the Atsuko's skull. _As if I've been waiting for _that girl_ to come into my life?_ Finally, he could not take it anymore and chuckled. "Yeah, actually," he said with a grin, "Ran _is_ my girlfriend."

Ran slightly loosened the fingers she had clamped around Shin'ichi's arm and blushed.

A flash of realization zipped through Chieko's mind. Creeping backward little by little until her heels scraped the curb's edge, she first took Atsuko's elbow, then Minami's, and asked, "D-did you say that your name's Mouri Ran? As in the daughter of 'Sleeping Detective' Mouri Kogorou?"

Ran cocked her head to the side, flashed them a wide smile, and nodded. "Mmm hmm!"

"_Run!_" Chieko hissed in her companions' ears.

"What? We can't leave now—_ow!_" Atsuko wailed, the cry rising to a shrill yelp as Chieko yanked on a pigtail.

"Stupid! Mouri Ran's the prefectural karate champion!" Chieko bellowed, her face glowing red enough to match her hair. With a shudder, she added, "I've seen her fight."

Minami wrenched her elbow away and stood, defiant, with her hands on her hips. "There's no way that _this_ girl—

"_Kyaaaaaaa!_" Ran plowed her fist into the steel pole, driving a dent into it so deep that Shin'ichi reeled backward, amazed it did not tip over.

The girls all reared on one leg, weakly lifting the other for protection while they clung to each other in a petrified group hug. Then they bolted, tearing down the street and shoving aside several old ladies until they left nothing but dust in their wake.

Shin'ichi slowly let out the breath he was holding, adjusted his tie, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Peering through lowered eyelids at Ran, who leaned forward with glee to wave the fangirls goodbye, however, he could not resist feeling amused. "Don't you think that was a little harsh?"

"Maybe a little," Ran replied, only a hint of nervousness touching her laughter. Straightening to her full height, she bounded to his side with a feathery step and, after hesitating only a moment, took his hand.

His stomach fluttered to spite himself when he grasped her hand in response, knowing that it had just bent metal into submission, yet melted so easily in his own. Crossing the intersection and approaching the more commercial streets of Beika, both hearts beat faster under the curious glances of the lawyers, housewives, salarymen, children, and high schoolers they passed, but they kept their hands joined. And striding together through the bustling crowd, they shared a feeling that friends could never know.

* * *

Oooookay, this Kiss is a little late. Many apologies! I've managed to scrape these by on time with LJ, but here . . . stinkin' glitches!

It was only after finishing this that I realized we have a title repeat: "Just You" and "Just Friends". Sheesh. At least the second Kiss I'm posting (the one for this month), managed _not_ to become "Just A Vitamin"! Enjoy reading two for the price of one.


	8. It's Good for You

**Title:** It's Good For You  
**Author: **RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #28 – Wada Calcium CD3  
**Rating: **G  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 4/9/2007)

_It's Good for You_

It was _gummy_.

That was the first thought to cross Edogawa Conan's mind when he scrutinized the small, candy-colored object being lowered between the thumb and forefinger of his childhood friend turned babysitter, Mouri Ran. Unfortunately for him, Ran not only possessed a black belt she was not afraid to use, but towered more than twice his size and was not about to take "no" for an answer.

Conan made a face. The chewy candy was not even candy, though it glowed bright blue and took the shape of the Detective Boys' favorite hero. This was far worse.

"Come on, Conan! It's the new Kamen Yaiba gummy vitamin!" Ran coaxed in a sing song voice, waving the strange confection under Conan's wrinkled nose. She crouched beside the kitchen sink and gave Conan a sweet smile, making his heart flutter against his will. "If you thought the _original_ chewable vitamins were yummy, these are yummy _and _gummy!"

_Would you stop treating me like a child?!_ Conan almost blurted. Kids meals were one thing, but this was ridiculous. Instead, he crossed his arms and turned away in a miserable attempt to look cool. "I get enough nutrients in my regular meals. You should know because you cook them."

"Conan? Do you know that mothers tend to worry, even when they're not around?" she said, maintaining a tight smile like a pot millimeters from boiling over. "And that such a mother _trusts_ any guardian of her child with his health, including his nutrition?"

Ran's face—and lips, Conan could not help but noting—hovered close enough to his to force his cheeks to flush. It was a shame she looked ready to karate chop him at the same time.

"Uh, Ran-neecha—"

That was all Ran needed to pop the gummy vitamin into Conan's mouth and clamp it shut, his lips pursing as they squished together like a kiss.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Ran chirped, patting Conan's head. The scowl he gave her, however, made her sigh and add, "Now don't be so grumpy. You want to grow up big and strong, don't you, just like Shin'ichi-niichan?"

Conan turned beet red. _J-just like . . . ?_

Straightening up, Ran ruffled his hair and bounded into the living room, leaving Conan unsure of whether to feel happy or violated. He chose the former and, folding his hands behind his head, followed at her heels with an off-key whistle. Besides, if his taste buds were not fooling him, Razzberry Yaiba was kind of sweet.

* * *

This Kiss is a not as late as the last one, but many apologies nonetheless! This idea had simmered at the back of my mind for awhile, but came in handy when I needed to write a Kiss hours before the deadline. It seemed the most logical use of "Wada Calcium CD3", you know? Again, I hope you enjoyed reading two for the price of one!


	9. If You Only Knew

**Title:** If You Only Knew  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #6 – the space between dream and reality  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 5/10/2007)

_If You Only Knew_

Dear Shin'ichi,

You'll never see this letter because I'm never, ever going to show you and it's not like I know where to send it, anyway. I just saw Jodie-sensei the other day, and since I was so happy to see her in Japan after all that's happened, we had lunch together. The point is, she suggested I try to write down my thoughts and feelings. It's crazy, but that's why I'm writing this.

There are so many things I want to tell you, but I don't know where to begin. They're at the tip of my tongue, and I can't think of how to say them. But even if I did say them, they would only be my voice on the phone. It's been over a year since the night you ran away from Tropical Land, and I can't help but wonder if my premonition, a feeling I had that I'd never see you again, is coming true. It scares me to remember it, because it was like goodbye. You did come back once or twice, but even those times were so strange and seem like a long time ago. Where are you, anyway?!

Wait—that's not really what I wanted to write about. I tell you this every time you call, so I'm sorry. This is supposed to be about what I don't say, right? I'd toss this in the trash, too, if Jodie-sensei hadn't said to make it honest.

I love you, Shin'ichi.

There, I wrote it. It's so small, but I can't say it and I don't know why. It just presses against my chest or it stays in my throat and I can't get it out. I'm drawn to you in a special way, and I have been all my life. This may sound silly, but you make me feel safe. Not just from dangerous people, either, but in every way because of the special warmth you have inside you. Yes, you can be a complete jerk sometimes, you say rude things, and you're full of yourself . . . but you truly care about other people. You probably don't know this, but when I was at my lowest, when I blamed myself for the murder in New York, your words about saving saved me. They saved my heart from breaking apart and caving in, and more than ever, I know I can trust it in your hands—oh, I'm making no sense!

I hope you feel the same way, but that's just a dream. It is a dream, isn't it? I can't say you belong to me when you don't, but whenever I think of you with some other girl, it drives me crazy! Why? I don't have much to offer you except to keep my promise: I'll wait for you as long as it takes. I promise, Shin'ichi.

But do you know what that means? This feeling I keep for you, this dream of the two of us together, burns like a growing fire even though I try to lock it up everyday so no one can see, not even you. It hurts, and it's getting harder and harder to hold it inside. I mean—I can't believe I'm writing this!—when I miss you most, it's almost dangerous. Whenever that happens, I want to just get up and run and find you wherever you are. Or get the truth out of you. And I mean beat the truth out of you if these crazy thoughts about Conan are true. But since you must really be out there somewhere, the minute I see you again I might blurt all of this out and make a fool of myself.

You see, a few weeks ago, Kazuha asked me about something. She asked me if I would kiss you, and I told her only if you kissed me first, but now I think that was wrong. Because with the way I feel, Shin'ichi, if this dream ever came true and you gave me the chance, I would hold you, kiss you as hard and as long as I could, and never let you go away again—

Oh, no! Now the paper's crumpled! That was too close! Next time, Dad and Conan could at least try to knock first!

At least you're safe, or more like my secret's still safe. Jodie-sensei was being really kind when she said to try this, but I don't think this is helping at all.

I can'ttell you how I feel. You can't hold me in your arms and tell me it's alright and that you love me back. I don't even know if you would. But if this message could get to where you are, though I know it's impossible, would you try to understand? No matter what, I can't stop loving you. In a way—again, it's so silly!—it's too late to turn back.

So, Shin'ichi, I love you with all my heart. And if you ever asked, I would spend the rest of my life with you, and all this time waiting for you would be nothing. Please let me know some—ah! They're coming back!

Love always,  
Ran

* * *

And it's one away from the big #10! (Not that I'm doing "#10" next, but just saying. Er, yeah.)

All I can say about this one is I was in a hurry again, but looking for a unique way to rush through a Kiss. Some of my most personal prayers are written in letters, so I kind of drew from that. _I_ tend to wax poetic, though, so hopefully this was in-character!

I'm always saying "hopefully" at the end of each Kiss, huh? Must be a habit . . . .


	10. The Flip Side of Estrangement

**Title:** The Flip Side of Estrangement  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #4 – our distance and that person  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 6/6/2007)

_The Flip Side of Estrangement_

Mouri Ran rubbed the bags beneath her eyes and blinked at the increasingly blurry computer screen. Yet another divorce case displayed itself in black and white as she scrolled down, detailing drunkenness, skirt chasing, and a laundry list of other offenses. The dying sun caught Beika's skyline in its orange flame, casting a striped shadow through the law office's Venetian blinds and exposing each particle of dust to Ran's tired sight. Just as her subconscious began to sift and blend the relief and regret over her own marital choices, her IP phone's intercom crackled.

"Mouri-san?" her young, somewhat nervous secretary named Miyu asked, "It's your husband. Can I put him through?"

Ran sighed and pinched her sinuses, rubbing them to no effect. "Yes, go ahead."

It was not that she hated Kudou Shin'ichi. She could never go so far as to _hate_ her first love, husband, and the father of her only child. She just refused to wait on him anymore—or forgive him. Picking up the receiver, Ran did not bother hiding her weariness or irritation as she said, "_Moshi moshi._"

"Hey, Ran," replied Shin'ichi, sounding similarly annoyed. "Can you do me a favor?"

Ran rolled her eyes. This was so like him: inconsiderate as ever. "Depends. What do you want?"

"Have you seen our daughter lately?" Shin'ichi continued, dropping his voice with a confidential tone.

Quirking a smile, Ran silently marveled at how her brilliant detective could be so thick. "Unless your nose has been stuck in a Holmes novel all this time, you should've seen her first."

"That's not what I mean," Shin'ichi growled. Ran could hear some shuffling in the background, which sounded suspiciously like Shin'ichi was clearing away said mystery novels to find a lighter and stale cigarette. "If she hasn't dropped by your office yet, she will," he said, through muffled lips and flint scrapes. "Knowing her, she'll try to get permission from you to meet that person."

"Meet someone?" Now Ran's interest was piqued. Sliding her free hand toward a pad and pen, she prepared to jot a note for herself just in case. "Dear, is she in trouble?"

"Yeah. She's been asked out on a date," Shin'ichi continued, dropping his voice even lower though Ran knew no one else could be in the Kudou Detective Agency at that hour, "by that brat Kogorou."

Puffing her cheeks, Ran could hardly contain her laughter. "Um, you do know," Ran said, letting her chuckles sneak through, "that he's her classmate, not a subsidized date?"

"Of course I know, idiot!" Shin'ichi spat, lancing Ran's eardrum. "But he's a slacker who skips class, stays out late playing mah-jong, turns out barely passing grades, and _then_ has the nerve to play detective without any clear method. If Inspector Megure accepts him as an officer after graduation, he should be ashamed of himself." With a grunt, he seemed to flop into his squeaky, old swivel chair before muttering, "I should've known you wouldn't take Eri's future seriously."

That cut Ran to the heart.

"Excuse me?" she yelled into the receiver. "How _dare_ you accuse or lecture me on caring for the future of my loved ones, you hypocrite!"

Suddenly, the door flew open and a school satchel slumped to the ground, revealing a tall, teenage girl who blinked in surprise. The perkiness of her thick, brown ponytail offset her Teitan uniform and the conservative pair of glasses that engulfed her face. "Mom!"

"Oh, h-hi Eri!" Ran chirped, blushing. Cupping the receiver, Ran hissed, "Don't you think this is over, you detective geek." Hanging up, she gave her daughter a bright smile, smoothing her hair and lapels as if that would mask the tirade she had just spewed. "How's everything?"

But Eri narrowed her gaze and frowned. "That was Dad, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Ran admitted, weakly. Pulling a seat behind her desk for Eri, she added, "He told me about your being asked out."

"I knew it," Eri said with a pout as she dropped into the green leather chair. Holding a hand above her eyes to shield them from the bright sunset, she sighed. "I don't know why he won't just give Kogorou a chance!"

"Well, if what your father says is true, he might need to pick up his studies a little," Ran began, crossing her legs after swiveling to face Eri, "but didn't you say he's in the Judo club?"

"Right!" Eri said, nodding emphatically. Then, she bit her lip and glanced away. "He hasn't won any tournaments—or matches, but—"

Ran reached forward to pat her daughter's shoulder and offer a gentle smile. "Don't worry. I know that's not what matters most." Pausing a moment to consider Eri's grateful look, she frowned and asked, "He does care for you, doesn't he? Does he treat you well?"

"Of course, Mom!" Eri cried out, clasping her hands in supplication as if all her hopes rode on what Ran might say next. Then, spreading them over her pleated skirt, she looked down and murmured with a small smile, "Sure, he's been teasing me since we were kids, he drives our teachers crazy, and he likes mah-jong way too much, but he's always been there for me and he—he cares for me like I care for him. Like I'm the _only _one." Taking a deep breath, Eri faced Ran again, letting that hope in her watery blue eyes shine and letting those words sink into her mother's heart.

"Eri," Ran breathed, understanding her completely. _Didn't I look like her once?_ Shaking her head, she also took a deep breath before answering, "You know you're too young."

Eri shot to her feet and pulled away from Ran as if stung. "But you and Dad married young!"

Ran rose to her feet, too, and crossed her arms with all the authority she could muster. "All the more reason!"

Silence fell between them, but Ran's stern exterior crumbled and gave way as her daughter's chin trembled and tears spilled over her cheeks. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she looked so heartbroken whenever she cried, not that it mattered as she neared her fourth decade of life.

All of a sudden, through wet lips, Eri whispered, "Why did you marry Dad?"

Even after ten years of separation, Ran felt the old lump rise in her throat at the thought of him. "You want to know the truth?"

Eri paused, then nodded. The sun continued to set between them like a judge between the two generations.

"For the same reasons as yours," Ran replied, with a sad smile, "but with minor differences."

"You still love him, don't you Mom?" Eri asked with no small wonder, eying her mother and analyzing her like Ran knew only the daughter of the modern day Sherlock Holmes could. Gaining no response, Eri demanded, "Then why did you leave him?"

Ran gasped, anger churning inside her stomach. "You mean he never _told_ you?"

Turning on her heel, Ran hid her face with all its distortions of fury as she stomped on the plush carpet toward a bookcase decorated with several photographs: her parents, in matching uniforms, posing with their coworkers in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, herself and Shin'ichi pushing baby Eri in a stroller at Tropical Land, and even a high school picture of their class's cultural festival play, with Ran dressed as a princess being saved by Shin'ichi, her knight—a picture she only kept because, as she said, that was her only lead role. Then, Ran laughed bitterly. "Why am I so surprised? He waited _ten years_ to tell me."

"Ten years?" said Eri, taking tentative steps toward Ran. "To tell you what?"

Ran squeezed her eyes shut and turned around. She knew she could not hide the tears that blurred her vision, but by then, she felt too tired to care. "Eri, your father had some trouble when we were still in high school." She edged toward the leather chair Eri had abandoned and touched it, hoping Eri would understand and sit down.

Ever the obedient daughter, Eri swallowed hard and sat, not saying another word until Ran continued.

"One day, in our second year at Teitan—as you are in now," Ran began, scarcely believing it all happened that long ago, "your father took me to Tropical Land as a reward for winning the prefectural karate championship."

Eri nodded. The trophy still stood, somewhat tarnished, in a display case in Ran's high rise apartment.

"Well, right as we were leaving a case your father solved on one of the roller coasters, he told me to head home, then dashed into the shadows of the amusement park and never came back. Of course, he _did_ eventually," Ran added, throwing up her hands in frustration at trying to explain what, in her mind, remained unexplainable, "but not until two years later, after a string of phone calls and a few visits that always began with him popping up out of nowhere and ended with him running off without a word."

Opening her mouth, Eri hesitated before saying, "I don't understand. Was Dad investigating something? He was already a detective, right?"

"That's the strangest part of all, sweetie," Ran murmured, half to herself, as she stopped to gaze through the dimmed blinds into a scarlet-stained dusk. Residential apartments in the surrounding area began to flash bright, golden lights of welcome as night approached. "That was exactly what he told me every time he called. I would have been content to believe him, no matter how much I missed him, though this was before I admitted my feelings for him," Ran said, with a mild laugh. Then, battling tears and the persistent lump in her throat, she whispered, "If only there hadn't been Conan."

"Conan?" Eri echoed. "You mean, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? I know Dad's kind of obsessed with him, but—"

Ran leaned against the window frame and shook her head. "Then you're much smarter than I was at your age. I wish I could've made that connection sooner. If I did, your father might not have been able to fool me about Conan for all those years."

"Wait a minute!" Eri gasped, climbing onto her knees and perching her chin on the chair's tall back, much like Ran recalled her doing as a child. Blushing, she squeaked, "Y-you don't mean you left Dad for this Conan?"

"Oh, quite the opposite," Ran spat as she started pacing the room and drawing deeper breaths. "Edogawa Conan was a little boy who showed up with Professor Agasa in your father's library—the one we used to have until he sold the house—the night that your father ran away. I agreed with the professor to be the boy's guardian until his parents returned from the hospital. Long story short," Ran said, with a tight smile, "that boy was actually your father, shrunk by a criminal syndicate's experimental poison into child size."

"Uh, come again?" Eri asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Sounds crazy, doesn't it?" Ran said, crossing her arms as a single tear escaped and fell onto her woolen suit sleeve. "But as the days wore on with Conan living beside me and your grandparents, I could see your father in every move he made. Heck," Ran cried, throwing up her arms yet again, "he wouldn't even leave murdered corpses alone!" After winding her way around the office, she slid back into her chair. "I loved your father so much, but he fooled me every single day, taking advantage of your grandparents' positions as high-ranking police detectives to investigate this syndicate. Worst of all, he returned as good as new and continued to feed me that lie."

Giving her daughter a hard stare, she said, "And I trusted him. And married him. And six years after I gave birth to you, the only good thing that man ever gave me," she concluded, rolling her eyes, "he told me the truth, saying he did it to protect me. For ten years? I doubt it."

"So you mean if I ask Dad, he'll tell me the same story?" Eri murmured, reflecting the look of innocent disbelief Ran was certain she once had when Shin'ichi told her.

"I hope so," Ran muttered. "Since he did _that_, I stopped understanding him at all."

Palpable silence descended between the two women. Though Ran's anger simmered and boiled within her as if she had walked out the door of the Kudou mansion yesterday, she gauged her daughter's reaction with care. For several minutes Eri sat, absorbed in thought with her hands upon her knees, but then she bolted upright in her seat and blushed, setting her jaw in determination. "Mom? This might not mean much, but Dad still loves you, too."

A flutter rose in the depths of Ran's heart, but she ignored it and stuck her nose in the air. "I'm sure he thinks he does."

"But didn't he get you those chocolates you liked for White Day?" Eri asked, clapping with pleasure and peeking sidelong at her mother—who remained cold as ice. "Even though you didn't give him chocolate for Valentine's Day? That's got to be love!"

At this, Ran crossed her arms and gave Eri a teasing grin. "Something you put him up to, no doubt, telling him it was for one of his many fangirls."

"_Mom,"_ Eri moaned, jumping to her feet in exasperation. She crossed the room and, stopping beside the door, bent to pick up the strap of her satchel. "You and Dad are so stubborn!"

"Hmm, maybe so," Ran murmured, rubbing the golden ring she still wore on her third finger. A thought crossed her mind. "Oh, Eri?"

Eri paused by the door, her ponytail swaying behind her. "Yes?"

"Although it would do you good to stay away from childhood friends and detectives, it's fine with me if you go out with Kogorou-kun," Ran said, watching the joy burst across Eri's features like fireworks. Curving her mouth into a self satisfied smile, she added, "That is, if you don't mind my driving your father a little crazy."

"Have you seen him lately?" Eri giggled, flushed and practically skipping with happiness. She tossed her satchel over her shoulder and said, "He already _is_ crazy. Just come home, Mom." And she shut the door.

Left alone in the darkened office, Ran found herself with two choices: turn on the garish florescent lights and stay awhile or call it a day and head home. With such a draining conversation behind her, she tapped her chin and thought, _Definitely option #2._ Opening a desk drawer and fumbling for her purse, her nails scraped against a hard, cylindrical object. Without looking, she remembered what it was, but she unconsciously withdrew the pottery she once made as a teenager and flipped it over to read the underside: _I'll be waiting._

Huffing and blowing her bangs from her face, she shoved the cup back into the drawer and muttered, "Don't know why I keep that thing at all, let alone here—"

"Um, Mouri-san?" spoke Miyu's voice as she cracked open the door and poked her head inside. The girl resembled a pixie with her cropped brown hair and petite figure, attributes that made her quite the friendly messenger whenever her mood was confident. "I was going to leave this message behind for you, but since you're still here . . . ." When Ran met her by the door, Miyu passed her a yellow stickie note, then asked, "I hope that's alright?"

Taking the note, Ran reached for her coat on a nearby polished rack, flipped the overhead light switch, scanned the message—and gasped.

_Sorry for that, Ran. Love, Shin'ichi_

Suppressing the urge to tear the note or crumple it—_How cheap! He could've called my cell phone later or written it himself instead of dictating to Miyu. And how dare he think this is enough to make up for—_Ran neatly folded the paper and tucked it into her purse. After all, it was not everyday that he made an effort to come halfway, and the same could be said of her. Glancing at the picture of the school play, Ran remembered how Shin'ichi had masked his face at the time, hiding himself from her longing heart as he hid his face from Princess Heart; foremost in her memory, however, was how they had come close to sharing their first kiss. And she really missed kissing him.

Maybe she _would_ come home someday. _Maybe,_ Ran thought, with a giggle, _if he begged a little harder._

* * *

It goes without saying that _Detective Kogorou _would have been a different series altogether, so I settled on switching roles and adapting personal histories while striving to maintain character. This story was partly inspired by this page from my Mad Libs calendar:

"_Items From A Gossip Column:_ Mouri Ran (name of person, female) and her ex-husband, Kudou Shin'ichi (name of person, male), were seen last night at the Twenty-Three club holding cookies (plural noun). Could it be a reconciliation?"

And that was #10! Or 1/3! Thanks for sticking with me this far!


	11. Waking Beauty

**Title:** Waking Beauty  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #21 – violence; pillage/plunder; extortion  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 7/17/2007)

_Waking Beauty_

"Don't even _think_ about it, Watanabe."

A shadowy figure paused, his mouth stopping a hair's breadth away from that of an unconscious girl; her rich brown hair fanned upon a brocade pillow, and her arm, despite its muscular tone, drooped limply off the sofa. Lifting his head, the man who had, over dinner at the grand Suzuki residence, looked slender and gentlemanly in a suit and horn-rimmed glasses before he slipped sleeping pills into the girl's drink, glared at Kudou Shin'ichi with feral hatred.

Unlike most murderers facing Shin'ichi, who now emerged from behind a grandfather clock looking particularly pissed off, Watanabe Tatsuya did not bother playing it cool or demanding proof from the teenage detective. But Shin'ichi expected that from the man behind the now infamous "Sleeping Beauty" serial murders. Serial killings might not have been the usual line of Shin'ichi's deduction work, but he knew Watanabe was the kind sadistic enough not only to time the sleeping pills' effect so each victim would awaken to a searing, painful death, but to kill these victims by sullying their lips with a deadly kiss. So instead of debating or fighting, Watanabe gasped and lifted himself to full height, ready to swallow his own tablet of specially coated poison.

Shin'ichi scowled. He had removed the tie of his school uniform and loosened his collar, already sick and tired of this guy. At Watanabe's sudden movement, Shin'ichi released a soccer ball and, just before it reached the ground, smashed all his weight into it, knocking the poison tablet from Watanabe's gaping mouth, shattering his glasses, and knocking him unconscious all at once.

"Damn, that was close," Shin'ichi muttered, panting and sagging his shoulders with a sigh. Flipping open his cell phone, he pressed a speed dial button and said, "Got him, Hattori. Bring everyone over here and tell the old man she's alright." Then, snapping the phone closed, he made his way to the curtains, removed the ropes that gathered them, then crossed the Persian rug and bound the murderer's hands and feet. The only thing left to do was wake Ran.

Such a task would seem simple enough to those who did not know her well; Mouri Ran had the unfortunate tendency to sleep like the dead, so with a sedative in her system, she was as good as comatose. Shin'ichi scratched his head, knowing he had his hands full. With a sigh, he ambled to the golden, plush couch where Ran lay and dropped onto the edge beside her. "Hey, Ran, wake up," he said with a groan, the futility of it obvious as soon as he tried. He grabbed her shoulders next and gave them a gentle, then firm shake. "C'mon, wake up."

Shin'ichi groaned again, running his fingers through his hair. She was not moving.

Well, not entirely. Lying in the purple chiffon dress Ran wore to her friend Sonoko's dinner, her back arched slightly to accommodate a large, silk bow, sharpening the rise and fall of her stomach. Her blue eyes also darted beneath her drawn eyelids, suggesting REM sleep. She was probably dreaming.

Now Shin'ichi was by no means prone to illogical thoughts because, like his hero Sherlock Holmes, he had no patience for them. Still, with the way Ran rose and fell on the wave of slumber, one arm lying delicately across her chest, and the way that, despite her drugged state, a rosy glow still touched her cheeks and lips, Shin'ichi wondered if he should just let her sleep. Brushing aside a few errant strands of hair from her forehead, he smiled. Though she always looked peaceful when she slept—in a sleeping bag when they were little, on one of the Agency couches, or even propped against a blossoming cherry tree—he felt relieved to notice, since they no longer kept secrets from each other, that peace shone in her every waking smile.  
_  
__Ba-bump._

An idea struck him, a crazy idea he immediately rejected as stupid, but the thought skipped his heart a beat. Breathing a bit harder, Shin'ichi glanced back at the mahogany grandfather clock. Maybe two minutes had passed, maybe three. In either case, only another bare minute remained until half of Beika crashed into the room. He should leave Ran be. This was not some children's fairy tale, with the knight defeating a fiery dragon to awaken the slumbering princess.

But he could not ignore that, with each warm breath escaping from Ran's parted lips, she looked more and more beautiful.

Shin'ichi, shaking his head to snap out of it, reached over the sofa's side and took Ran's limp hand, lifting it to meet the other. The effect made him catch his breath. And in the end, it called to mind the times their own story felt like—but that was ridiculous. Blushing furiously, he fought to ignore his racing pulse and almost wished everyone would just _get here_ already.

And yet, gazing at her peacefully sleeping face, with its strawberry cream complexion, and that drowsy smile on her . . . Shin'ichi had to admit that kissing Ran was becoming his weakness.

His heart leaping to his throat, Shin'ichi leaned forward, hesitated, then touched his lips to hers.

For a moment, there was nothing. It was kind of odd, and it almost felt wrong, to be embracing her while she was dead to the world. Shin'ichi might have begun to wonder what those folklorists were thinking if he was not privately enjoying it. It did not take long, however, to gain a response, signaling that Ran had finally come to, and then came a muffled gasp, and then—  
_  
__WHAM!_

A blow slammed into Shin'ichi's solar plexus like a jackhammer, sending him flying across the room; in surreal slow motion, he arced over the prone murderer, then backflipped and landed smack on his butt. Time sped back to normal as Shin'ichi skidded across the waxed floor and crashed into the _formerly_ priceless china cabinet. With each crash and blinding white flash, he could only pray to escape without severed arteries or internal bleeding.

A gulp sounded in the aftermath. "Oh . . . _S-Shin'ichi?_"

Coughing painfully, the great detective staggered to his knees, one eye shut under the strain of ragged breathing. Ran looked blurry at first, but then she came into focus; she was gaping in horror, her fists still clenched and her right knee buckled after it could well have gone through Shin'ichi's midsection and torn a hole.

Ran flushed blood red. "D-d-don't scare me like that! I thought you were the—t-the . . ." she trailed off, shivering, in spite of the steam that began to puff around her burning head.

At that perfect moment, Heiji, Kogorou, Sonoko, her family, and the Tokyo police threw the double doors open and stormed in; Shin'ichi used all his strength to point toward the now conscious, but groggy, Watanabe and his unused poison tablet. Though Heiji only needed one double-take to assess the situation, making him clap a hand over his mouth and double over laughing, with Sonoko soon catching the drift and snickering, Kogorou stood over Shin'ichi with the unique look of disdain he saved for his rival and his daughter's boyfriend. With a snort, he muttered, "What happened to you?"

Shin'ichi and Ran glanced at each other, but broke off in hot blushes, muttering two different stories to themselves: "I tripped on the coffee table—" "I got a little, um, confused in my sleep—". Still, after a moment, Shin'ichi smiled at her from the corner of his eye and, catching her do the same, fought the urge to chuckle.

"Actually, it was nothing," Shin'ichi finally said with a grin, leaving Kogorou as puzzled and suspicious as before, "nothing . . . just an errant knight."

After all, there was no way Shin'ichi would dare try that again—not with the karate princess.

* * *

Sorry for not posting this until now! It had already been sitting as a 2nd Draft version in 30Kisses for a good week until I discovered, alas, there's been no time to revise it to death as I'd like. Enjoy, and please review!


	12. Cocoa

**Title:** Cocoa  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing: **Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #23 – candy  
**Rating:** G  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 2/20/2008)

_Cocoa_

On the frigid afternoon of February 14th, Shin'ichi was trying not to act too disappointed. He had started the day confident that this was finally the year Ran would pull him aside and shove a loose bundle of homemade chocolates into his hands. Then, she would wait breathlessly until he ate one, and then he would say how delicious it was, and . . . well, his fantasies were cut short each time Ran pulled something out of her satchel—in the walk with her to school, before homeroom, lunchtime, and during those last moments after the closing chimes—because what emerged was always a notebook or handkerchief or anything considered the opposite of chocolate.

But Shin'ichi also noticed a change in Ran as they walked home. She started fiddling with whatever else was in her bag more and more, and with the clinking sound it made, Shin'ichi realized it was her change purse. Soon she paused every time they passed a coffee shop, but then shook her head and kept walking. It was beginning to bug the heck out of him.

Suddenly, they rounded the corner of the last coffee shop, a Starbucks, before the edge of the residential district. Ran halted, squeezed her fists until her knuckles were white, shouted "Please wait!", and rushed inside. Five minutes later and much chillier, Shin'ichi turned from where he'd been kicking pebbles by the road and glanced up.

Ran raced out of the store, flushed as ever, and peered over her scarf at him with a nervousness that made her look queasy. Holding her hands firmly behind her back, she straightened in her puffy coat, then bowed and thrust forward—a coffee cup?

"Happy Valentine's Day, Shin'ichi!" Ran stammered, holding the steaming cup like a sacrificial offering. The rounded lid, like a sippy cup, made the sight more ridiculous. "I tried to make you chocolate last night, but with the news broadcast of your case on TV, I forgot and left it on the stove. So here's some hot chocolate!"

Shin'ichi blinked in wonder. He'd almost forgotten about that case with a vengeful hotel employee who had held the CEO hostage. Well, the case was hard to forget, but it hadn't dawned on him until now that he could've ended up on the wrong end of that man's gun. Ran had congratulated and teased him as usual, but maybe . . . .

He lifted the cup, blew the swirling steam away, and took a sip. It burned his tongue, but he didn't care. "Hey, Ran," he said, grinning at her. "It's really good. Thanks."

Ran blushed and grabbed her satchel once more. "You're welcome."

Then, when one of her hands slipped to her side, Shin'ichi didn't hesitate to give it a squeeze, but said, "I wonder what this means for White Day."

"Huh?"

"You know," he said, chuckling, "want a white chocolate mocha?"

And Shin'ichi was rewarded with a jab in the ribs.

* * *

Confession: This is an after-the-fact post that fit this Kiss's theme. I've already dropped my claim on LiveJournal's 30kisses. It was too much work, and I didn't really like my last two entries (still unposted), though I'm hoping to continue the challenge someday. This story will be among the first I'll add to that site once it's time to continue. Until then, sorry for the long break! Hope you enjoyed the new entry!


	13. Secret Rivalry

**Title:** Secret Rivalry  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #16 – invincible; unrivaled  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 7/1/2012)

_Secret Rivalry_

Armed with a strawberry layer cake, Mouri Ran stared at Professor Agasa's front door with shaky determination. If anyone were to have spied Ran on their noonday travels as they passed the large, modern house, they might have mistaken her for a ding-dong-dasher; she took a step forward, then back, and then started to run away, and then ran back to the door. Ran knit her forehead as she remembered how Sonoko's warning led her to this.

"_I don't trust her," Sonoko said, leveling a glare at Miyano Shiho as the latter led Shin'ichi away from Teitan High._

"_Sonoko, don't be silly!" Ran watched them depart with a fond smile. "She's not with that organization anymore, remember? Besides, I know she's a good person."_

_Sonoko twitched. "You seriously think I was talking about that? Don't you get it? Those two are way too close for a scientist and her walking experiment."_

"_S-Sonoko!" Ran peered at them again as they retreated. The way they bickered was almost intimate. But she shook her head. "They're just good friends. After all, Miyano-san was in danger for so long, and she didn't have anyone, and—and…."_

_Ran gaped, her imagination suddenly assaulted by a barrage of kisses, touches, and low whispers between Shiho and the detective she loved._

"_Now you get it," Sonoko replied, hands on her hips in vindication. "Hurry after them and get your husband back!"_

But Ran did not hurry after them that day or the next. When the weekend arrived and Shin'ichi postponed their date so he could catch up on case files with Inspector Megure, however, Ran's fingers itched with the sudden urge to bake. Now, here she was, feeling very much like a shameful coward. _This was a stupid idea!_

Just as Ran turned to leave one last time, the door flew open, and from the darkened threshold emerged a disgruntled young woman. In sharp contrast to Ran, who was dressed for her date in a frilly, rose skirt, peach blouse, and espadrille wedges, Shiho wore a fitness tunic, leggings, and an acidic scowl. In the cheerful sunlight, her hair flamed an angry shade of red.

Ran gulped.

"Ah, good day, Miyano-san! I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. Sorry for showing up uninvited," Ran said, bowing. She held out the cake container and did her best to smile. "But I guess you're going for a jog, right?"

"No, not yet. Please come in," she replied, her expression blank as she ushered Ran into the foyer. "The professor's not home, but I have to stay just in case."

_Just in case of what? _Ran thought, but did not ask. She halted in the doorway, facing a confrontation unlike any karate tournament. Her opponent would not take a stance in front of her, would not block or deliver blows that she could see. But Ran took a breath and followed Shiho inside. _If this is a challenge, I'll accept it._

"You didn't have to go through the trouble," Shiho said, taking the cake from Ran. She examined it through its clear, plastic cover as if she were looking for ants. "Why were you in the neighborhood?"

"Well, I was supposed to meet Shin'ichi this morning, but he had some consulting to do at police headquarters," Ran replied, her nerves failing as she pasted another smile on her face.

"Is that so?" Shiho muttered, walking ahead into the kitchen area.

Frowning, Ran changed into house slippers and followed Shiho. Though Ran found it awkward to think of her as a rival, she knew Shin'ichi had poured much time and energy into keeping the girl safe. She would be shocked if Shiho had _not_ fallen for him. But her memories of Ai trembling with fear pitted suspicion against guilt. It was enough to wrench her stomach.

"If you don't mind, I'll invite those children over later and give them the rest," Shiho said, setting a kettle on the stove to boil. "The professor shouldn't be eating cake."

"Sure, that's fine!" While taking over the cake slicing, Ran stole furtive glances at Shiho and, against her better instincts, tried to compare their measurements. Through the lens of her anxious mind, she more than lost the fight.

Shiho paused from reaching into the cupboard for a canister of tea. "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Ran snapped to attention and stopped short of slicing her own fingers along with the cake. She cleared her dry throat and lifted the knife that she held in a white-knuckled grip. "Oh, yes! Thank you very much!"

_Hang in there! _Ran encouraged herself, steadying her hands to plate the cake.

Returning to her work of brewing the tea, Shiho said nothing.

_Not good, _Ran thought. Ai had been unusually formal, but now she was intimidating. _I've got to take the offensive. _"Miyano-san? Shin'ichi said that you're starting a new job soon. Is that true?"

Ran wanted to kick herself. _So much for the offensive._

"Yes," Shiho replied, setting teacups and saucers onto a metal tray. "It seems Kudou Yuusaku-san managed to convince certain professors in the Institute of Medical Science that I'm not going to poison anyone. I'll start working in the Division of Cancer Cell Research next week."

"Really?" True excitement seized Ran for the first time since she arrived. "I'm so happy for you! Do your best!" But Ran's burst of happiness was cut short by her tightening knot of worry. _Of course she'll succeed. She's a prodigy, like Shin'ichi. _Ran sighed as soon as Shiho turned around and walked past the kitchen counter into the sitting area. _I almost forgot about that._

Tense quiet settled between them as they sat on opposite couches. To Ran, the oppressive atmosphere was palpable enough to make beads of sweat slide down her neck as she watched Shiho take her first bite of cake. The meager forkfuls Ran ate informed her that the cake was baked to perfection, but the frosting could use another pinch of sugar. As ridiculous as it seemed, Ran's jealousy declared that she might score a crucial point if her rival enjoyed her dessert. Maybe it was the memory of lemon pie.

But Shiho gave Ran no smile or murmur of pleasure, just tolerance. Two bites later, she stopped. "Mouri-san?"

Ran winced. "Yes?"

"You have something to tell me." Though Shiho spoke in a calm, reserved manner, it was not a question.

Caught off-guard, Ran blinked. Shiho had just given her an opening—and she had no idea what to do with it.

Then the truth hit.

Shiho was not the one fighting her. _I'm doing it to myself. My feelings…I'm just letting them confuse me._ Ran clenched a fist. Though she had arrived with a purpose, she was allowing insecurity to distract her left and right. A distracted fighter might as well throw in the towel. But that was not a mistake she would make anymore, not for something this important.

Not for someone this important.

"Actually," Ran said, setting her cake down and looking Shiho in the eye, "there's something I need to know."

"What is it?"

"Do you love Shin'ichi?" Ran poised herself on the edge of her seat and squared her shoulders. "Because if you do, you should know that I love him with all my heart. So be prepared."

For a second, Shiho sat, stone silent. The stillness between the two of them was magnified by the sheer size of the living room, and it made Ran's question hang uncomfortably in the air like the midday heat. Then, Shiho set down her cake, wiped her mouth, and drew herself up with her hands properly folded.

"Since meeting Kudou-kun," Shiho began, "I've learned many things about him, but three things stand out the most."

Puzzled—it was a yes-or-no question, after all—Ran held her breath and waited for Shiho to continue.

"First," Shiho said, holding up her index finger, "Kudou-kun is hopeless when it comes to respecting what other people want. Though he saved my life by ignoring my wishes, it drives me insane."

_What is she trying to say—?_

"Second," she continued, raising another finger, "while I don't mind that he's a deduction addict, he's always running headlong into danger. Frankly, I don't know how anyone around him maintains a healthy blood pressure."

Before Ran could speak, Shiho silenced her with a pointed look.

"And third, for him, in this world there's only one woman. It's amazing, really," she said, lifting her teacup and regarding Ran with the beginnings of a smile. "That idiot was always trying to make me give him the temporary antidote. Even if it risked our necks, he was that intent on getting back to you."

Ran's heartbeat skipped. "What?"

"Now do you understand? Going after such a person would be nothing but an annoying waste of time. So don't worry." Shiho took a sip as if she had just made an observation about the weather. "He's not my type."

Though Ran had gripped her cup at the warmth woven through Shiho's clipped words, she knew the other girl was being honest. Grinning back at her, Ran said, "Being stuck with Shin'ichi must've been very annoying, right?"

"I've seen better and worse days," Shiho said, shrugging as she crossed her legs, "but at least he's your problem."

With a soft chuckle, Ran stood up, deciding that what she had said to Sonoko about Shiho being a good person was wrong. _She's a wonderful person._ Holding out her hand, she said, "Thank you for watching out for him, Shiho-san."

"It's nothing. I owe you, anyway," Shiho said, likewise standing and shaking her hand. A glint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. "If he breaks your heart, I'll never forgive him." Suddenly, to Ran's surprise, a vein pulsed on Shiho's forehead as she raised her voice and said, "Heard enough, Kudou-kun?"

When Shin'ichi stepped into the living room from the basement staircase, trying to act cool even as he blushed deep red, a blazing heat rose to the very top of Ran's head. Ran rushed toward him and, by her tone, warned Shin'ichi to answer the next question _very _carefully—or else. "What are you doing here?"

"Simple," Shiho answered, crossing her arms. "He was supposed to arrive two hours ago for our biweekly examination. Thank you, Mouri-san, for letting me know he had forgotten and scheduled other things instead." She thrust her smartphone in Shin'ichi's face and said, "I don't know how you got in here without my noticing, but your phone has a calendar function, doesn't it? Use it."

_Ah! _Ran thought. _So that's why she opened the door like that earlier._

"My phone died at police headquarters, okay?" Shin'ichi said, still blushing. He turned to Ran and added, "And relax, it's not like I planned on spying on you. The door was open, but nobody was here, and since I'd kept Miyano waiting, I checked the lab first."

_So you conveniently waited there and got an earful? _Ran thought, but was far too embarrassed to ask. She decided she would rather not know how much he had heard.

"In any event, let's go ahead. Not everyone's willing to live by your timetable," Shiho said, pocketing her phone. "This won't take long, Mouri-san. Mostly, it's venipuncture for a series of blood tests. You're free to watch, if you want."

"No, that's okay," Ran said, shaking her head. The thought of Shin'ichi being poked with needles made her shudder, but she smiled at the awkward invitation. "I'll just clear away the cake before the professor returns."

"Thank you. Then I'll go down and get everything ready—again," Shiho said, shooting a glare at Shin'ichi before descending the staircase leading to the basement lab.

"I'll be right there," Shin'ichi replied. He stayed at the top of the stairs with his hands in his pockets and watched Shiho as she left.

Ran stared at his back. "Shin'ichi?"

At first, he did not move. Then, he nodded, as if confirming something, and turned to face Ran. His intense, piercing gaze struck her just like it did a few short weeks ago when they were reunited. That was when she asked him why, as Conan, he had stayed at the Mouri Detective Agency.

"_I mean, it makes sense that you wanted to use Dad's office to investigate, but wouldn't your dad have been a better choice?"_

"_You want to know the truth?"_

_She nodded._

"_I wanted to stay by your side. …Is that okay?"_

_Her tears spilled out then. "Yes."_

Before Ran could think, do, or say anything, Shin'ichi bridged the space between them, took her by the arms, and kissed her.

She gasped, her heart leaping to her throat as her eyes flew wide open in shock. But when that wave passed, her resistance slipped away, and she clung to him as tightly as he held her close. In that moment, the last of her worry disappeared, replaced by the warmth of an embrace meant just for her.

When they parted, Shin'ichi said, "Hey, you still free after this?"

Ran smiled and nodded. "Mm hmm. But isn't that my line?"

"Yeah, yeah," Shin'ichi said, giving her a puckish grin. "I've still got to get this over with, but," he added, winking as he bounded downstairs, "it's a small price to pay."

"Cooperate with Shiho-san," Ran called after him. "She was right about your timetable!"

She made her way back to the coffee table and hummed a tune until she overheard a pair of muffled voices—"Kudou-kun, wipe off that frosting." "Huh? Oh! I, uh, didn't notice." "I'm sure you didn't." "Hey, now—" "Be sure to tell her for me that the cake was delicious." "Tell her yourself—ow!"

Ran grabbed her napkin and wiped the corners of her mouth. _Don't tell me…! _She cringed at the trace of frosting left behind on the cloth, and yet she could not help but giggle. She had expected to find a rival. Instead, she found an ally and, in the heart of a very old friend, unrivaled love.


	14. Last Goodbye

**Title:** Last Goodbye  
**Author:** RanMouri82  
**Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran  
**Fandom:** Detective Conan  
**Theme:** #17 – kHz (kilohertz)  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 7/11/2012)

_Last Goodbye_

"_Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing"- Sonnet 87, William Shakespeare_

From his vantage point in a dim hotel room far above the twilit streets of Tokyo, Conan caught sight of a young bride dashing out of a neighboring wedding hall. He jumped to his window, startled, as the bride rounded a corner of the building and looked left and right, unsure where to go next. Her gown flowed from its empire waist to the sidewalk, overwhelmed by a wide, lace veil that covered her upswept hair and sank to the small of her back.

Though worry gripped Conan, he felt an old, familiar ache as he trained his glasses to zoom in on Ran. She was beautiful.

How many times had he imagined Ran would look like this on their wedding day? But there was no time to waste on daydreams. At the moment, Ran was less like a blushing bride and more like a pale widow. Clearing his throat, he kept to the edge of the window and said, through his bowtie into the prepaid cell phone he would only use once, "Ran-neechan, you still there?"

"Y-yes, Conan-kun," Ran said, shifting to hide in an alleyway behind a small, potted tree. She clung to her cell phone with her bare hands, allowing her simply polished nails and wedding ring to glint in the streetlamp light. "I just decided to get some fresh air, that's all."

"Why's that?" Conan asked, glancing away as he leaned against the window frame. It was hard to look at Ran, even in his glasses' grainy night vision. After all these years, he could not show himself to her for one, simple reason: Kudou Shin'ichi should be 26, and Edogawa Conan, as those in Beika believed, should be 16, but the Conan who lived with his cousin, Ai, in Los Angeles was only six.

He glanced at the hand that held his phone. It was as small as ever, not that it had mattered since nine years ago, when Kudou Shin'ichi died.

Ran breathed into the phone as if gathering her thoughts for some excuse. The excuse never came. "I don't know, Conan-kun," she said, her voice quivering. "I think I—I'm having second thoughts."

"What? But you just got married!" Conan said, pushing aside his pain to peer out the window in case Ran fled down the alleyway and out of sight.

"I know, I know!" Ran said, biting her lip and glancing around again. "Stupid, isn't it? It makes no sense! I can't even stay strong for my husband's sake! Yamazaki Kenji is an excellent doctor, and a kind man, a-and…."

Conan forced himself to finish her sentence. "And he loves you."

"Yes." Ran sniffled, but then knocked her own head. "Oh, I'm such an idiot! I'm so sorry, Conan-kun. You called to wish me well on my wedding day, and now I'm troubling you with all this."

"It's alright, Ran-neechan. It's my fault, anyway, for sounding too much like Shin'ichi-niichan." _Not that the voice is my own anymore_, he thought, grimacing at the bowtie he kept between his mouth and the phone.

"Now don't go blaming yourself," Ran said, wistfulness seeping through her chiding words. "If anything, I'm proud that you've grown up. You sound like a mature young man."

A lone lamp cast Conan's silhouette on the wall behind him. _If you only knew, Ran._

As much as Conan wanted to get off the subject of Ran's marriage, it was for this purpose that—despite the great pains the FBI and CIA had taken to protect him—he had risked using his travel documents to fly to Tokyo at all. His parents had gratefully accepted the Mouris' invitation to attend the ceremony and reception, hoping to satisfy their son with the knowledge that Ran would be in good hands, even if they were not his own. Still, Conan needed to catch a glimpse of Ran to be sure of that, and what he saw on the street below only ratcheted up his anxiety. "Dr. Yamazaki is a good person, right? He treats you well?"

"Mm hmm," Ran said, sniffling again. She shrank behind the foliage to hide from passing cars and pedestrians. "He's wonderful, Conan-kun. He's everything a woman could want in a husband. It's j-just—oh, how can I say such a terrible thing?"

"Sorry, Ran-neechan," Conan said, in a near whisper, "but do you mean that he's not Shin'ichi-niichan?"

Ran blushed with shame. "Yes."

"But Ran—Ran-neechan, Shin'ichi-niichan's—"

"_I know!_" Ran yelled, stepping forward, her bottled anger bursting into the phone. "I know he's dead!" Then, she gasped at her own outburst and shrank further from the wedding hall's brick façade. "I'm so very sorry, Conan-kun."

"No, don't be. Please, don't." That was his fault, after all. If his inability to age were not bad enough, nine years ago the ordeal with the Black Organization had reached a tipping point. Ran had come much too close to stumbling onto secrets that would have killed her. And when his last hope of salvaging a sample of APTX 4869 was lost, all that had been left to Conan was to fake the death of Kudou Shin'ichi.

Ran had waited for him, but he had failed her.

_Uncle wasn't much better_, Conan thought bitterly, remembering that it was Kogorou's failing health and disintegrating Agency that drove Ran to something as idiotic as accepting a marriage proposal from his doctor. According to Yukiko, Eri had tried her best to dissuade Ran, but Ran refused, insisting she had to put aside her selfish grief for the sake of her family's future. _But that's the way Ran's always been, taking the pain of others as her own._

There was only one thing Conan could do for Ran now. It would not make up for any of the pain he had caused her. That was impossible. "If it still hurts, Ran-neechan, then I think there's something I should tell you. Something Shin'ichi-niichan told me a long time ago."

Ran froze. "What?"

"It was back during the case that happened with the Tokyo MPD in that wedding hall. Remember it?"

Hiccupping, Ran said, "You mean, the case where the bridegroom was a serial thief murderer, right?"

"Yeah." Granted, it was not the most pleasant way to bring it up, but it gave the needed context. "Back then, I emailed Shin'ichi-niichan about how Officer Satou had traded places with the bride and how you stopped the murderer with karate. He replied that, with no offense to the police officer, he knew someone he would rather see in a wedding dress. Not long before he died, he told me he had meant you. I think he knew what might happen to him. When I found out that he was gone, I saved the email, but since he wanted it kept secret, and I was worried that it might upset you more—sorry, I never showed you. May I send it?"

"…Yes, please," Ran whispered, looking into the night sky. Within seconds, a backdated message appeared on her phone. She hesitated, but then opened it, as Conan read it aloud.

"_Hey, kid, remember that I wrote a certain girl should be in a wedding dress? Guess I'm in a spot right now where that's not going to happen for me, but one way or another, I hope Ran gets to wear that dress. Keep this a secret for now, okay?"_

Ran let out a whimper and crushed her tears with her fists.

"I think—no, I know—he can see you now, Ran-neechan." Conan wished he could swallow the stubborn lump in his throat as he watched Ran cry over him again. It had been too many times to count. "He's glad you're trying your best."

"You know what, Conan-kun?" Ran laughed softly into the receiver, and it was the first warmth Conan had heard in her voice in a long time. "If Shin'ichi had asked me to marry him, I would've said yes."

Conan trembled, fighting the urge to scream that he was Shin'ichi, that he was alive, that he was right there, several floors overhead, right across the street, and that he loved her so much—

Suddenly, a breathless man emerged from the chapel and almost dashed past Ran, but he spotted her and halted at the last minute. Through Conan's lens, he appeared to be in his mid-thirties with unkempt hair, though he carried himself in a manner more consistent with his well-pressed tuxedo. "There you are."

"Ah, I'm just speaking to Edogawa Conan," Ran said, stretching her lips into a perky smile. "You remember, right? The boy who used to live—"

"Then I hope he'll forgive me for interrupting your conversation. Please listen," he said, making Conan frown. Yamazaki might as well have been talking to his clinic director. "I know you still have feelings for your childhood friend. I never meant for you to think that I was forcing you to accept my proposal. It's just that as we met more often, your dedication to your father struck me, and I…but if this isn't what you want—"

"Shh, don't be silly. I chose this, too, didn't I?" Ran said, stopping his mouth with her fingertips. She stared at the ground and said, "The truth is I was being a coward, afraid to accept that Shin'ichi was really dead. Part of me expected him to run into the chapel and stop the ceremony. That's crazy, isn't it?"

"No, not at all." Yamazaki took her hand, stiff and unsteady, as if uncomfortable with the gesture—or not used to it. "The truth is that you're my first love, Ran. I don't mind not being yours."

A long silence fell then, but as crazy as it drove Conan to hear another man telling Ran such precious words, he waited. He would not hang up before she did.

"Thank you," Ran said, her voice thick with emotion, "…Kenji."

The man's breath hitched.

_Must be the first time she's ever called him that._

"Conan-kun?" Ran said, though Conan saw she did not take her eyes off Yamazaki, "I'm sorry, but I think it's time for me to go."

Several seconds passed before Conan could calm his racing heart enough to say, "I understand."

"Thank you, Conan-kun—for everything," Ran said, clutching the phone. She moved as if to hang up.

"Ah, wait a minute!"

"Yes?"

"Just one thing," he murmured. If nothing else, this needed to reach her. This was his kiss goodbye. "Be happy, Ran—Ran-neechan."

"Mm hmm," Ran said, shaking with a sob Conan could tell she fought with every fiber of her being. But when she spoke again, genuine cheer swelled from within. "I'm determined."

Conan touched his thumb to the phone's screen as Ran ended the call. This time, he knew in his bones that he would never hear her voice again. There was too much risk otherwise. He dropped the phone and bowtie. _Not even her voice…._

From now on, he would keep those sound waves, the unique pitch of Ran's voice, in his memory. A pair of tears found their way to the rug below him; it took a moment to realize they had fallen from his face.

"Kudou-kun, are you alright?"

Conan started at hearing the name, but kept his back to Ai. "You're calling me that now?" he said, with a dark laugh. "Kudou Shin'ichi's long dead."

"Yes, I am," she said, maintaining a respectful distance. Conan did not need to look to know Agasa hovered at her side. "Because he's the one in pain."

_You two came along just for that, huh? _Conan thought, grinning.

"…Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Conan said, discreetly wiping his eyes on his sleeve and slipping back on his glasses. "At least now I know Ran will be alright. Are Mom and Dad on their way?"

"They'll be here in a minute, once Ran-kun's left," Agasa said. His worry had aged him more in the past few years than ever before, but it was clear that what overcame the inventor now was pity. "Our flight leaves first, but we still need to be careful."

"Don't worry," Conan said, giving Agasa a sardonic glare while shoving his hands in his pockets. "I won't try to chase down Ran on the way to her honeymoon. Besides, they're going to Okinawa, not Los Angeles."

"Is it really alright, though?" Ai said. She tugged the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and tucked in her hair. Soon enough, Yuusaku and Yukiko would burst through the door and shuttle them to a waiting car. "Things are still touch-and-go for us."

Conan paused. As endless as the war with the syndicate seemed, there was only one thing that mattered now. Though his dreams, his future, and his identity had all died, though his last tie to the dearest person in his life was forever severed, from behind his glasses a new fire flared to life. If Ran could be that strong, he had no right to be any less.

"If it's not alright, it will be," he said, smirking. "I'm determined."


	15. Magic Kisses

******Title:** Magic Kisses**  
****Author:** RanMouri82**  
****Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran**  
****Fandom:** Detective Conan**  
****Theme:** #18 – "say ahh..."**  
****Rating:** PG**  
****Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 8/12/2012)

_Magic Kisses_

"There you are, Ran-chan! All better!" said Kudou Yukiko as she smoothed the small bandage over Ran's elbow with a tender touch. Setting the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol back inside the bathroom's medicine cabinet, she looked down on the first-grader with a smile. "If you're feeling alright, you and Shin-chan can run along back into the yard and play, but," she said, with a glare at her son, "go easy on the soccer this time. It's not the World Cup, Shin-chan!"

"Fine, but it wasn't my fault," grumbled Shin'ichi, stretching his arms behind his head. He was covered from head to toe in dirt. "Ran dove for the ball and tripped on that tree root."

"Eh? Is that true, Ran-chan?" Yukiko asked, crouching down to Ran's level. Her cheerful face softened into a look of deep concern as she furrowed her brow. Shin'ichi blinked.

"Uh huh! I was having so much fun, I got a little clumsy," Ran said, blushing and rubbing her elbow with a bright smile. "Sorry to trouble you, Kudou-san."

"No trouble at all, Ran-chan!" Yukiko replied, straightening to her full height and patting the children's backs to lead them downstairs. "Now you go on and have fun, and I'll make you something yummy to eat, okay?"

"Mm!" Ran said, bowing her thanks as she followed Shin'ichi outside. It was a blustery day in early spring, and the shy birds were just beginning their joyful song to the growing sunshine. But Ran soon stopped watching Shin'ichi practice balancing the soccer ball on his head and looked again at her elbow. Tensing up, she reached tentative fingers to touch the bandage.

"You wanted Mom to kiss it, right?"

Ran gasped at Shin'ichi, who had let the ball drop into his hands. "W-what?"

"Your mom always kisses your scrapes. I saw her do it that time you skinned your knee at the park," Shin'ichi said, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry about that. Mom used to do it to me, too, and tell me to 'say ahh' and all that stuff, but she stopped being cutesy about medicine after I started running away from her."

"Oh, is that why?" Ran's lips quivered as she fought to keep the smile on her face, but her tears brimmed and spilled over. "Then t-that's okay. I understand."

"Ran?" Shin'ichi stared at her, worry working its way over his little features. "Did something bad happen?"

Trembling, Ran nodded. "M-my mom, she—she moved away."

"She did what?!" Despite his sharp gaze and typical confident air, at that moment the boy stood helpless.

"Mm hmm. Just the other day, Daddy and Mommy were yelling at each other, and Mommy said she was tired of putting up with Daddy and didn't want to live with him anymore." Sobbing, Ran brushed her elbow and said, "What'll I do?"

Shin'ichi frowned. His mother must have known. He looked down for a second, darkness obscuring his face as, in the treetops over the children's heads, the birds chirped their sweet melodies. Then he stepped forward, took Ran's elbow, and kissed it.

"Huh?" Ran did not move a muscle even as her cheeks glowed.

"There." Shin'ichi let her arm go and, blushing, said, "It's not the same, but…."

A gust of wind blew the overhanging leaves so sunlight shone on their faces. Wiping her tears, Ran smiled and said, "No, it feels a lot better now. Thank you, Shin'ichi!"

"It's nothing," Shin'ichi said, coughing as he scooped up the fallen soccer ball and kicked it to Ran who, clenching her fists with new energy, kicked the ball back to Shin'ichi so fast, it slipped past him. Shin'ichi grinned and ran for the ball, saying, "Watch it! It's not the World Cup, you know!"

From a nearby window, Yukiko drew back the curtains and sighed. The future would be difficult for Ran, but there was still healing to be found in friendship and magic kisses. At least Yukiko now knew that, despite appearances, it was a truth her son understood.


	16. Downpour

**Title:** Downpour  
**Author: **RanMouri82**  
Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran**  
Fandom:** Detective Conan**  
Theme:** #27 – overflow**  
Rating:** PG**  
Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 9/13/2012; originally published 8/28/2007 as "Shelter" on LiveJournal's 30kisses)

_Downpour_

Steady sheets of rain drummed the Mouri Detective Agency's windows in time with Okino Yoko's cheerful vocals. Snug in a dune beige sweater wrap, Ran sat at her father's desk, folded a basketful of clean laundry, and tapped her toes to Yoko's latest hit single, "Rainbow Drops", thinking the music would be soothing if not for the high volume or Kogorou's constant shouts and whistles from the couch. When he started whistling loud enough to burst her eardrums, she was tempted to bonk him on the head and remind him that the TV show was not a live performance. However, she gazed out the window as her thoughts drifted toward someone else, much to the irritation of her father.

"Weren't you two supposed to go out on a date or something?" Kogorou asked, flipping open a beer can when Ran looked behind her for the twentieth time to ponder the blanketed skies. He quickly added, "Not that I care."

"Yes, but we couldn't have a picnic in this," Ran replied, suppressing a smile. Though Kogorou now found endless grievances to hold against Shin'ichi, each complaint was tinged with enough regret to prove that he missed his former freeloader. "If Shin'ichi hadn't ended up with a case, we'd be stuck in the rain right now."

As soon as Kogorou turned his attention back to the TV and took another gulp of Kirin, however, Ran dug into the pocket of her jeans and checked her flip phone. She sighed at the predictable lack of missed calls or emails.

A flash of lightning zipped through the sky at that moment, followed seconds later by a massive thunderclap, making Ran jump out of her skin. She stood and was about to abandon her seat by the window when she glanced at the street below. Through cold glass and rivulets of water, she could see that the glistening sidewalk was deserted, much to her relief. _No one should be caught in—_

Several lightning bolts flashed then, revealing a lone figure hunched in the pouring rain who trudged closer to her door. She had not noticed him before, but the moment she caught a glimpse of his hooded sweatshirt and measured, yet casual pace, as if he were deep in thought, a sneaking suspicion shot goose bumps up her arms. Then, with the next crack of thunder, he looked up.

Ran gasped, covering her mouth. _Shin'ichi?_

"What was that?" Kogorou asked, shooting Ran a glare.

"Nothing!" Ran cried. Whipping toward the window, she cringed as Shin'ichi, drenched from head to foot, faced forward again as if he would keep walking. She made her decision with a quick nod, rifled through the laundry basket, and tugged the thickest towel from the bottom. "I just need to step outside for a minute!"

"Now?" Kogorou said, choking on his beer. "Are you crazy?"

Grabbing an umbrella, she hopped on one foot in the doorway to slip on her sneakers, called over her shoulder, "I'm going out, but I'll be right back!" and slammed the door behind her.

"Alright, just be careful," Kogorou called after her. He took another sip and grunted. "Kids have too much energy."

Ran panted as she raced down the concrete staircase. _That idiot could catch cold or pneumonia! _Speeding onto the sidewalk, she cupped a hand over her mouth and shouted, "Wait a minute, Shin'ichi!"

Shin'ichi turned around. Ran tucked the towel under her arm and let herself be pelted by the rain as she struggled to open the umbrella. One look was all it took for Shin'ichi to frown, run back to Ran, and catch her hand to lead her underneath the covered stairwell. "Geez, what's wrong with you?"

"I should be the one asking that," Ran said, unfolding the towel and dropping it on his head. She then propped the umbrella where they stood between the entrance and the agency's door and put her hands on her hips. "Why are you walking around like this? You could make yourself sick!"

"I wasn't walking around, just walking home." Rubbing the towel through his slicked hair, Shin'ichi squinted one eye closed with the effort and replied, "The case wrapped up before the rain started, so the police were long gone and I was halfway to my house, anyway. I was going to buy an umbrella, but by the time I found a store, the wind was so bad it would've torn it to shreds. After five minutes of waiting under an awning, I decided to get it over with and walk the rest of the way."

"But how did you end up here?" Ran said, as the scolding she wished to give him died on her lips. Shin'ichi did not seem to be having a good day, considering his shoes made slurping noises whenever he walked. While she felt sorry for him, the sight was rather cute.

"I'd like to say it was on the way," Shin'ichi said, glancing at the towel on his head with sudden interest, "but while I was turning over the case in my head to pass the time, my feet took me here on their own."

"Fair enough," Ran said, smiling. He had shared her home for months, so she was not that surprised. She was not about to tease him for it, either. "Then why didn't you come inside?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Shin'ichi said, giving Ran a half-lidded glare while draping the towel around his neck. A slight blush tinted his cheeks. "I wasn't about to drop in on you like this."

Though Shin'ichi was a mess, soaked to the bone with his hair flying in all directions and his dripping clothes clinging to his body, his firm stare warmed Ran's face. It was hard to tear her gaze away from his, since each earlier stare at her phone and out the window had sprung not just from worry, but longing. Ran was glad to see him, even like this, though she felt silly for missing Shin'ichi when he was this close to her. She trembled when she sensed, from his stare, that he was likewise drinking her in.

"Still," he said, handing Ran the towel as his face reddened, "thanks."

She nodded, took the damp towel, and held it to her heart. The rain outside continued to fall, its whispers punctuated by the softer rumbles of thunder that rolled through the sky's dark canopy. Ran knew she should hurry Shin'ichi home so he could dry. Instead, at the next thunderclap, she launched herself forward and clasped her arms around his back.

Shin'ichi started as Ran pressed against him. "W-wait, you're going to get—"

Water seeped right through Ran's sweater, but she held him tightly and rested her head against his chest, not caring. Shin'ichi cleared his throat and drew hesitant arms around her. "Idiot."

Cradled in that damp warmth and flushing as Shin'ichi breathed past her ear, Ran remembered the last storm that swept through the city on the last evening Conan spent at the Mouri Detective Agency. That day, before sunset, Ran felt Conan's eyes following her as much as she was sure hers followed him. By then, both had known something dangerous was about to happen and how Conan was involved, but neither had said a word. When Ran lingered beside the agency's windows to watch the murky clouds advance and block the brilliant orange sky, Conan came alongside her.

"_Hey, Ran-neechan? Did you know that most thunderstorms aren't just one cell, but a cluster?"_

_Ran looked down at Conan. "What do you mean?"_

"_The updraft can build in many cells and form a giant cluster. It takes about twenty minutes for the energy in each cell to dissipate. That means you might think it's one, long storm when it's really a series of storms."_

"_And that's supposed to make me feel better, Conan-kun?" She barely stopped herself from calling him Shin'ichi. "That means more storms to worry about, doesn't it?"_

"_Maybe, maybe not," Conan said, lowering his voice, his gaze intent on holding hers. "But they're smaller than they seem, and even they can't last forever."_

"Shin'ichi?"

"Hm?"

"What you said about storms was true, but when it comes to love," Ran said, not daring to move from Shin'ichi's shoulder, "it's the opposite, right?"

Shin'ichi's throat caught, and Ran felt his arms tense, but then, to her alarm, he brushed his chin against her forehead and said, "Yeah."

Ran gave up trying to calm her heartbeat since she could feel his racing, too. Taking a breath to gain courage, Ran pulled far enough away to look at Shin'ichi. Meeting his eyes, her head swimming, Ran rose and shyly opened her lips as Shin'ichi reached forward and kissed her. The touch of his mouth was gentle, as if he feared hurting her, not that he could or would. Spurred by this, Ran held Shin'ichi tighter and, as he did the same, she squeezed her shut eyes, letting the tears that welled there flow down her cheeks. When they eased apart, Ran did not bother hiding that she was wiping her face. Since learning that Shin'ichi had witnessed her many tears, she was fine with sharing these happy ones.

Her sight clearer now, Ran spied Shin'ichi shivering. "You're catching a chill!"

"I'll be fine," Shin'ichi said, shifting his weight on his soggy shoes while he blushed crimson. "Just got to change, and—oh, the wind's died down."

Ran blinked and glanced with Shin'ichi at the entrance. The rain no longer whipped sideways in unruly gusts, but pattered on the sidewalk in shallow puddles. Still clutching the towel, she smiled, picked up the sky blue umbrella from the ground and handed it to Shin'ichi. "You can use this now, right?"

"Right." Shin'ichi smiled back as he took the umbrella and bounded to the base of the stairs. Turning toward Ran, who followed him to the landing, he added, "As far as the park's concerned, it looks like we can try again next weekend. It's supposed to rain for the next few days, but then it'll pass."

"Just get home safe," Ran said, grinning at the news. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Shin'ichi replied, popping open the umbrella and walking back into the rain with far more energy than he had left it.

As soon as Shin'ichi turned the corner and was out of sight, Ran dashed upstairs, feeling lighter than air. She paused at the agency's door, however, and rested her hand on the knob. Despite how the rainfall dampened the sound, it was clear that her father had begun replaying the Okino Yoko program, since Ran could hear the song from earlier. _"Drops of sunshine wash tears from my heart, this feeling sparkles like dew…."_

With a contented sigh, Ran opened the door and hummed along.


	17. What to Expect When You're Gardening

**Title:** What to Expect When You're Gardening  
**Author:** RanMouri82**  
Pairing:** Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran**  
Fandom:** Detective Conan**  
Theme:** #11 – gardenia**  
Rating:** G**  
Disclaimer:** Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 11/25/2012)

_What to Expect When You're Gardening_

Shin'ichi's breath puffed in the frigid, moonlit air as, wrapped in a woolen scarf and overcoat, he passed the frosted grass of his yard and grasped his icy doorknob. He was returning from a rather straightforward case, but it was late, and Inspector Megure had been merciful enough to shoo him back home to his wife.

The lights were on in the foyer, which would have been unusual years ago, when Shin'ichi lived alone. Then, the first night he tried sneaking upstairs in the dark after they were married, Ran mistook him for an intruder and gave him a concussion. Since then, not only had Ran developed a habit of leaving the lights on to show someone was home but now, as her pregnancy entered its final weeks, Eri, Sonoko, Shiho, and even Kazuha often buzzed around to force more rest on her. If Shin'ichi dared to walk into his own house, they were eager to snipe him with caustic insults and an infinite to-do list. Ran would then pop in from the next room—while clutching the latest book on childcare she was poring over—to insist she was just fine, really.

That put a grin on Shin'ichi's face. He could not blame the others for fussing over Ran. Part of him was glad even if they had an annoying way of going about it since, for all Ran's good habits, at times she needed to fuss more over herself.

As Shin'ichi put on his house slippers, he heard a soft sound from the living room and froze. Ran was crying.

Dashing across the hall into the living room, Shin'ichi halted in the doorway and groaned at the sight. Ran knelt on the floor, ignoring the heaviness of her belly or the way her cherry-dotted blouse bunched around it while she sat on her swollen ankles. Sobbing through reddened eyes, she gripped a pair of pruning shears in one hand and a glossy, hardcover book in the other; she held the book open, allowing Shin'ichi to spy the title printed on its upper margin: _The Proper Care of Gardenias. _What made him groan, however, was the state of the potted gardenia by Ran's knees. A number of its wilted leaves and trademark white blossoms were scattered about the carpet, dead. Its strong perfume hung in the air, though even that was stale and lifeless.

Crouching in front of Ran, Shin'ichi held out his hand and waited. She sniffled, but gave him the shears.

Ran had surprised Shin'ichi by buying the gardenia several weeks ago. Considering how Ran wrinkled her nose around the flowers, it was clear she was no less sensitive to their powerful scent than she had become to any other odor. More than that, he knew—and had cautioned Ran—that a gardenia was far from a simple hobby plant. It required expert level gardening, especially when attempting to grow indoors. It made no sense for Ran to torture herself, but hey, it was her decision.

Shin'ichi bent low to pluck a yellowed bud from its rotted stem. That act unleashed another, louder burst of tears, so he stopped. "It _is _winter, you know," Shin'ichi said. "Even with the right soil pH, the low humidity and minimal light won't—"

"Don't you understand?" Ran said, wiping her eyes in vain as more tears coursed down her flushed cheeks. "I'm a _terrible mother!_"

Shin'ichi raised his eyebrows. Any connection to be found here was more improbable than logical. "What?"

"Truth is, books about gardening are easier to follow than books about babies," Ran said, with a trembling smile, easing the book onto the floor and tracing her finger along a picture of a gardenia in full bloom. "When it comes to children, there are so many different foods, different signs of illness, different ways to bond, teach, bathe, and encourage sleep. Mom tried to reassure me, but the more I read, the more I realized how much I didn't know, after all." She waved a weak hand at the gardenia. "So I got this to test myself, because I knew it would be hard, and I—I killed it. If I can't even take care of a plant, how can I know our baby will be okay?"

Sighing, Shin'ichi plunked the shears onto the carpet and kicked them away. "You should've listened to your mother."

"What?" Ran stared at him, incredulous.

"Legitimate experts exist, of course, but even they don't have all the answers. Worrying about what works for everyone is pointless," Shin'ichi said, fixing his gaze on the withered gardenia. Dropping to the floor to sit crosslegged beside Ran in his brown jacket and trousers, Shin'ichi leaned on his palms, silent for a moment. Then, reaching past her to pick up the gardening book, he closed it and set it aside. "Trust your instincts, Ran."

"Are you sure?" Ran said, clutching her knees.

"I've known you for a little while, right? For one thing, you've always been great at taking care of children, whether or not they were actually children." When that managed to get a chuckle from Ran, Shin'ichi grinned. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he added, "But in case you forgot, we're in this together. We'll be fine."

"Right," Ran said, closing her eyes and rubbing her belly with a gentle smile. But then, she winced and blushed. "Um, would you help me up? My feet fell asleep."

"Figured they would," Shin'ichi groused, standing and supporting Ran's arms as she slowly rose from the floor. "If you stop cutting off your circulation like an idiot, I'll buy you all the gardenias you want."

"Don't bother. I've had more than my fill of those things," Ran said, huffing and turning up her nose as she wobbled upright. Once she regained a firm stance, however, she leaned against Shin'ichi and, holding him close, murmured, "Thank you."

Shin'ichi was grateful that, as he lifted Ran's chin and touched a kiss to her lips, her tear-stained cheeks were dry. But then, something struck his torso right where Ran pressed against it, like a—

"Ah!" Ran cried, as they broke apart. Beaming and looking up at Shin'ichi, she asked, "Did you feel that?"

"You bet I did," Shin'ichi said, touching Ran's round stomach in time for another bubbling kick. "With legs like that, our kid can play for the Tokyo Spirits."

"Or win more karate tournaments than Kyogoku-kun," Ran said, placing her hand over his.

Shin'ichi gave her a mischievous grin. "Or make it first to the scene of the crime."

"With my luck," Ran said, frowning at Shin'ichi, but she blushed as she took his other hand and tugged him out of the room toward the kitchen. "Come on, even detectives need to eat."

"Yeah, yeah," Shin'ichi said, drawing himself up next to her even as his stomach rumbled.

Behind the retreating couple's joined hands, the gardenia remained a still and silent witness to the fragility and strength of life. _The Proper Care of Gardenias_, however, lay at its side, forgotten.


End file.
